


Missing Rings

by Godoflaundrybaskets (digiella)



Category: Iron Man Noir, Marvel Noir
Genre: Action, Guns, Hurt Tony, Mystery, Romance, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-31
Updated: 2013-05-31
Packaged: 2017-12-13 12:08:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/824145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/digiella/pseuds/Godoflaundrybaskets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark is throwing his farewell party before he goes off to the European front line, when he introduced to one retired Captain Steve Rogers. Steve enlists Tony's help in finding a set of missing rings that were stolen from the museum Steve works at, but not everyone wants the rings found.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Missing Rings

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Written for the Cap-IronMan Reverse Big Bang Challange.. The absolutely beautiful art that inspired this story can be found on A03 by the wonderful Whippy ( [ http://archiveofourown.org/works/823790](http://archiveofourown.org/works/823790)). You should definitely go over there and check it out!
> 
> This takes place soon after the 2010 Iron Man Noir comic, but you can easily read the story without knowledge of that comic.
> 
>  **TW:** There is torture scene near the end. Cannon typical violence as well.

Tony sat tapping his shoe on the tiled floor to the beat of the drums. The club he had rented out was packed full. Everyone he knew, quite a few he didn't, and — of course — the press had been invited to his last party till he left for Europe. The dance floor filled with lithe bodies and fast moving feet as the dancers moved with the music; the click of their heels were almost audible over the swinging music. The farewell speech, which Pepper made sure he had the script for, had already been performed and there was nothing else expected from him other than a roaring party.

He smoothed the wrinkles from his tux jacket and shook his head. The rough edges of the metal that was welded to his skin always wrinkled his tux no matter how much work the tailor put into it. The newly modified reactor thrummed in his chest where a small shard of the orichalcum spear nested next to his heart. Unfortunately the Iron Man suit was still a power hog so if he took it for a spin, he had to recharge right afterward. He was working on an external battery, but none of his current designs stood up against the orichalcum reactor which stored power much more efficiently.

He heard someone calling his name and when he turned, he saw Franklin, already red in the face from alcohol, approaching. The last time he had seen Franklin was when Tony had returned from a trip Franklin had sponsored. Behind Franklin's not insignificant bulk trailed a man who practically stole Tony's breath away. He moved smoothly, practically gliding on floor, which was impressive for someone so tall and well built.

"Mr. Stark, I'd like to introduce Captain Rogers," said Franklin raising his voice to be heard over the smooth sound of the trumpet solo in the background. Captain Rogers offered a hand and Tony tried not to wince as his hand was engulfed.

"How're you, Captain? The name's Tony Stark. Who do I have to thank for bringing you to my little soiree?"

Rogers' skin was rough with callouses, not unlike Tony's own hands which retained callouses from blacksmithing. Tony didn't try to stop the slow grin that slid over his expression as his eyes slid down Rogers' wide shoulders and the well-muscled arms that showed through the suit jacket. Before his gaze could drop any further, Tony dragged his eyes back to Rogers' bright baby blues only to have his hand returned.

"Captain Steve Rogers, nice to meet you. Colonel Thomas invited me as his plus one since he's sadly still single. I've read all of your adventures in the rags. Your current chronicler, Mr. Finlay's, did a fine job of picking up after Mr. Musey's death."

Franklin grinned and clapped Tony on the shoulder. "I'll get back to my wife, now that I've fulfilled my promise to Captain Rogers. I'm sure you two can to entertain yourselves, I hope you don't mind me running off."

Watching Franklin try to squeeze through the crowd gave Tony an excuse not to meet Steve's eyes. Musey knew what he was getting in for and that hadn't deterred Ms. Potts one iota. Though, her staying after the Nazi business was a pleasant surprise. He didn't like to admit it, but running through correspondents so fast was embarrassing even if the only one who had involuntarily left his service was Musey.

His attention was recaptured, the mulling thoughts disappeared, as Captain Rogers said, "I'm sorry. That was crass."

"No, no. It's fine. His death was just unexpected; I still regret that I wasn't able to rescue him along with Rhodey."

"I've brought back bad memories, I'm sorry."

"What brought you to my party?" Tony asked changing the subject. "Other than the Colonel's invitation, of course."

"I wanted to meet the man whose adventures inspired some of my own. I understand that this party is to celebrate your own decision to help fight against the Nazi's..." Steve's voice trailed off as he raised his eyebrows.

"You seem well informed," Tony said with a wink. "My latest adventure forced me to think about the world I'll leave behind and I, for one, can see quite a bit of room for improvement. In fact, I have some colleges in Great Britain who have invited me for some quite interesting work."

"When are you heading there? Very soon?"

"In about a month. I still have some business to take care of in the States before I can leave. Stark Industries can't just be left on its own on such short notice. Unfortunately, most of my time left has been booked with meetings and paperwork so I can make sure the company stays on track while I'm away."

Steve glanced away, his eyes flicking across the crowd as he mused, "I'll be heading back to Europe myself not too long from now."

"I thought you were in the military, _Captain_." Tony raised an eyebrow.

"I was in the army. When my commission was up several years ago, I decided not to reenlist. A decision I've been reconsidering of late. I've been working at the art museum lately. Nothing special. Just cataloging some of their inventory."

"Are you an artist?"

"I dabble here and there. I'll never be one of the masters, but I like to think I'm alright."

"You should paint me," Tony said with a grin.

"My landlady would be very scandalized if she caught me doing nude portraits again." Tony's eyes widened. Steve couldn't mean — It wasn't until Steve's innocent act was broken by a slight twitch of his lip upwards that Tony busted out laughing.

"Oh!" Steve said turning his head quickly to where the band was playing as they started a new number. "I love this song. Would you want to join me on the dance floor or do you have to go mingle? It'd just be one song, I promise, and then you could be back doing your duty as a host."

"By all means," Tony said. He placed his glass on a platter as a waiter moved passed and grasped Steve's extended hand who pulled him onto the dance floor. Tony spun into Steve's arm and let himself fall into the familiar rhythm of dancing letting Steve lead. He spun away from Steve and was quickly pulled back, spiraling into Steve's arms. Tony was breathless with exertion when Steve raised a challenging eyebrow. The floor cleared around them as they naturally fell into step with each other. Tony winked and stepped back to build momentum extending a hand and lept. As he flew into the air, he felt Steve's arms in the air lifting him. Tony flipped over Steve's arm landing on his feet and slid down into a spit.

Steve reached down pulling Tony up and flush with his chest as their legs flew as the band picked up on their excitement and sped up. Tony could already feel sweat starting to dampen his suit despite the cool night air, but he grinned and matched Steve step for step. Still, it was a relief to step off the dance floor to a roar of cheers and clapping and grab the nearest glass of water that was offered.

Before he took a sip, Tony raised his glass and raised his voice so he could be heard in the lull of music, "Enjoy the evening ladies and gentleman. Let the dancing continue!" A second louder cheer rose and the band started once again.

Steve said, "Thanks for the dance. It was really swell." The bastard wasn't even out of breath.

"Where'd you learn to dance like that? They teach you in the army?" Tony finished off the water and grabbed another glass as the waiter passed by.

"Nah, I took it up before I joined the army. Though, a few of my army buddies were able to show me a few tricks," Steve said. "You aren't so bad yourself."

"Yeah, well, I've had plenty of lessons." Tony shrugged. "I really should be getting back to attending my guests. If you want to meet up later..."

"I _was_ hoping to catch a private word with you. It doesn't have to be right now, but do you think we could meet after the party?"

"Sure," Tony said too quickly. "If you meet me outside the club, my apartment's not very far." It wasn't like he was hoping to steal Steve for a quick roll in the hay, but if that's what Steve wanted then Tony wouldn't be one to say no. Hedonistic pleasures were practically his trademark and he did have a reputation to upkeep. Having to deal with Rhodey's disapproving stare would be a problem for tomorrow. And Captain Rogers was very handsome. Tony wondered if he could convince the Captain to pick up his old military uniform.

"Will 0100 be alright, or do you think the party will still be going?"

"Once it gets that late, I won't be required to host any longer. Or, if you wanted we, could sneak out right now and—"

"I'll see you then." Steve leaned forward and Tony thought that he was leaning in for a kiss. Tony's eyes fluttered shut and he stood waiting for one second. Two. He opened his eyes and glanced around looking for Steve who was gone threading through the crowds like a man with a purpose. Tony cursed and made his way back to the bar.

Breathing in the sweet scent of cologne mixed with cigarettes smoke that fogged the air around him, Tony wished Steve hadn't ran off quite so fast. He was sure if Steve had stayed just a few moments longer he could have convinced Steve to come to his apartment. Damn it. He could practically feel the silky sheets beneath his back as Steve—. Tony shook his head. Either there'd be time for that when Steve met up with him or these fantasies have to serve when he headed for bed alone.

He reached the bar with only a couple other occupants on stools. "Whiskey on the rocks," Tony ordered.

"Yes, sir." The bartender poured the drink handing over the glass which was damp with condensation. Tony supposed he should be thankful; at least, it wasn't raining as it threatened to do this morning. Tony sighed. He would give himself five more seconds to mourn Steve's disappearance before he went back to mingling. Rhodey was around here somewhere and if anyone could distract him it was Rhodey. With any luck, Steve would keep his promise to meet him and Tony would still get lucky. Midnight seemed like a long time away.

"Your liver must be made of iron," a female voice spoke up behind him.

Tony spun on his heel and inclined his head in a slight bow. "Miss Potts. Can I get you anything?" Her dress was a deep red but a modest cut; conservative but still clinging attractively to her curves. Tony noticed the pad of paper sticking out of the edge of her purse and he couldn't help but wonder how many people saw the woman but not the reporter.

"I'm fine," She said raising her flute of champagne. "I didn't know you could dance like that."

"Well, I don't usually have someone that I care to dance with. But if you were interested, all you had to do was ask."

"Who was this mystery dancer?"

"Making some notes for your next article?" Before she could object, or more likely confirm, she was quite direct like that, Tony said, "It doesn't matter. His name's Steve Rogers. _Captain_ Steve Rogers. I happened to meet him. It seems he was looking for me."

"Oh, yes?"

"That's all I know. I just met the guy, I swear. I'll be sure to interrogate him tonight so your article will be interesting. Though, I have to wonder when Marvel turned into a gossip rag."

Ms. Potts shoved his shoulder causing the whiskey to slosh against the edges of the glass. "We're doing just fine. Romance makes the story more interesting. It ups the tension when it's not just your tush on the line. The last story where I got kidnapped sold better than any Marvel story before it."

"Well, it's unlikely that any adventure will be popping up for me till we get to Europe. Anyways, it's not like Steve will be coming with us."

Pepper shrugged. "We'll see." She twirled around, her dress spinning outwards as she made her way over to the dance floor.

Tony sighed and tossed back the whiskey, the alcohol leaving a rough burn as it slid down his throat. Tony turned back to the bar for a refill. Getting pleasantly drunk sounded like a fine way to pass the time till his meeting with Steve. Armed with a fresh glass of whiskey, Tony turned back to the crowd in search for Rhodey or a good conversation.

* * *

By the time one o'clock ticked past, most of his guests were already gone. This left only a few dancers spinning slowly to the low sound of the clarinet who they convinced to play one last song while the rest of the band tried to pack up as silently as possible. A few groups lingered by the bar talking in soft tones with a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Tony waited impatiently leaning against the club's doors, his fingers drumming a staccato beat on his arms. Steve was nowhere in sight. He closed his eyes and sighed. Tonight was just going to be him and his hand.

"Have you been waiting long?" asked a voice next to his ear. Tony twitched backwards drawing in a large breath before he recognized Steve watching him with an amused smiled. Steve raised his hands up defensively as he said, "Sorry, I didn't mean to sneak up on you there."

"No, it's alright. You just surprised me. Shall head to my place?"

"Sounds good to me."

It was a quick walk to Tony's apartment. The air was cool which was a blessed relief from the heat of the afternoon. The sound of music playing lingered in the air as they walked past a few clubs and turned onto Tony's street. Tony flourished the key as he pulled it from his pocket; it glinted in the lamplight and slid smoothly into the lock. Tony pushed the doors open bowing slightly inviting Steve to come inside.

No one was around so they had the elevator to themselves to the penthouse suite. Tony slipped in front of Steve once again and gestured for him to come inside. Locking the doors, Tony found already in the living room pouring himself a drink for himself from the little bar that Tony had set up by the piano. Drink in hand, Steve stepped over to the piano. "Do you play?" he asked.

"No, much to my mother's disappointment." Tony's shoes made loud clicks as he walked over to the piano to stand next to Steve. His shoulder brushed against Steve's and he leaned over nudging the taller man slightly.

When Steve just stared pensively at his drink, Tony reached for Steve's free hand, but Steve pulled away and reached into his suit pocket suit pocket unfolding a small piece of newspaper that had been ripped out. Holding it out, Steve said, "I need your help, Mr. Stark."

The paper was worn with the ink smudged around the edges but the main article was still legible and Tony smoothed the scrap out on the lid of the piano. The small header read: 'Theft at the Museum" and underneath talked about how three rings had been stolen late one night with the obligatory quote from the police were saying they were 'looking into it.' Tony sighed trying clear his head. So this was why he had been sought out by Steve Rogers; they probably weren't in for a night of sin after all. One quote from the article stuck out.

"Let me guess, you're their 'anonymous source' that talked to them about this," Tony said looking up at Steve with a scowl. It was always the pretty ones.

"The rings were stolen under my watch. I have to get them back." Steve reached out to put a hand on Tony's shoulder, but this time it was Tony who dodged out of reach.

"It doesn't seem like anyone else at the museum is in any kind of rush to get them back. Why are you coming to _me_ for God's sake? If you're not going to the police at least find a private dick or something." Had Rogers ever been interested in him or was Tony's lust just a convenient tool that Steve decided to exploit? No wonder Steve had disappeared from the party after he had secured the private meeting; he probably hadn't even been invited.

"Listen to me. I'm pretty sure that these were from the set of the Rings of Axonn-Karr. I hadn't gotten a chance to verify them yet, but I was nearly certain that these were the genuine article. They're said to contain a powerful force within each ring."

"Did you try any of them on."

"Of course not!" Steve looked horrified. "They're a thousand years old! Who knows what harm the oils on my skin could do them." Tony rolled his eyes. None of the artifacts that he gathered ever seemed the worse for wear when he transported them, even though he always seemed to get shot at and that tended to lead to a pretty rough journey. Plus, if the article was going to be worth the trip, seeing if the magical item actually worked seemed like something that ought to be checked.

"So how do you know that they work?"

"Tony," Steve said slowly like he was talking to a small child, "the rings don't actually contain power. They're just valuable relics. But I think someone believes they have power and that's why they stole them. I know you're usually the one recovering these kind of artifacts, but I thought you would have some contacts in," Steve gave a wave of his hand dismissively, "the magical community or whatever. Someone who thinks these rings are magic stole them, but even if they didn't then they might fence it to someone in the community."

"I'm not interested. I'm out of that line of work, since you apparently haven't been keeping up the news."

"Tony—"

"I have no idea who gave you the impression that I'd be willing to hear you out. Since you decided to ambush me during my party, you must have already tried talking to my secretary and found out _I don't take clients_. I don't know what's so difficult to understand about this that I get twenty hopefuls despite never having ever taken a client for a job.".

"Alright." Steve glanced around and set down his glass on the coffee table by the couch. "It was nice meeting you, Mr. Stark."

Steve held out his hand waiting. After a moment had past, Tony approached and shook it. "Look, it's not—"

"It's fine." Steve cut him off. "Have a good evening." Steve turned swiftly away and headed out. There was really no doubt of Steve's military status after all, with the straight back march that he was walking.

Sinking into the couch, Tony rubbed the bridge of his nose. That could have gone better. The door slammed shaking his walls and /at least Tony didn't have to worry about neighbors. Tony almost regretted sending Steve away, but he slept with too many hopeful clients who didn't understand that he didn't _have_ clients; he had investors. But those excursions never turned out well, and the last time he did it the woman ended up stalking him for three months; he had to get a restraining order on her.

Half an hour later, Tony heard a knock on the door. He ignored it and poured himself another drink until he heard the click of the door being pushed open.

"Tony?" Rhodey's voice called from the entrance. "You in there?"

Tony groaned and sank further into the couch pouting. If there was anyone he didn't want to deal with it was Rhodey. Well, actually it would be Jarvis, but Rhodey would be a close second. Apparently his groan was enough of an invitation for Rhodey though; Tony heard the click of the door being shut and the sound of Rhodey's shoes against the wooden floor.

"I saw your almost lover leaving. I take it things didn't go well?" Rhodey asked as he picked up Steve's glass and finished it off before sitting next to Tony on the couch.

"Ever hear of the Rings of Axonn-Karr?"

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Rhodey continued sipping his drink. "Any chance their genuine?"

"Who knows. It doesn't matter. Why are you here?"

"Jarvis said he heard yelling and called the club." Of course he did. The old bastard was nosy like an old grandmother; Tony couldn't imagine living with him. It was bad enough when Jarvis just lived in one of the lower apartments. Rhodey said, "Look, I'm not saying I think going to the front is the wrong choice, but you have another month till you ship out. You could do with something to keep you occupied. I think Jarvis appreciates the extra time you've been able give with the Iron Man suit, however you could use something to get you out of the lab."

"I've never heard of these so called Rings and—"

"That's what research is for, isn't that what you always tell me? Anyways, I heard that Rogers is a decent guy."

"You've heard...?"

"Ms. Potts might have asked me to ask some of the guests what they thought of him. Colonel Thomas — who served with Rogers — said he was stubborn as a mule but honest. He's apparently gotten into a handful of scuffles with Nazi sympathizers around town, so he can't be that bad. Which was why I was surprised to see him heading out in the rain. He seemed a little upset, but I know the reason for that now."

"He didn't even wait till we got to the bedroom. I rescue artifacts from forgotten places; I don't steal them from anyone living. I wouldn't even know how to pick a lock. I do trap doors and secret passages ways not B&E."

"I'm sure it wouldn't come to that. The band's already gone and everyone else left to find a bar that wasn't shutting down already. Why don't we wile away your pain and finish off this bottle of whiskey"

"You're just saying that because you can't afford the good stuff."

"But look at what a great friend I have."

Tony kicked his feet out at the coffee table and admitted to himself that he was pouting slightly. Why were these rings so important to Rogers anyways? It's not as though he was framed or anything; according to the article this was so far down the police radar that museum robbery seemed to have apparently a good risk/reward ratio. Tony got up and poured them each a drink. He wasn't nearly drunk enough to head to bed yet. At least with Rhodey here, Tony wouldn't have to drink alone.

* * *

Two days later, Tony sat in the empty garage at Stark Lab's flipping a wrench in one hand while he contemplated the article sitting in front of him. He regretted dismissing Steve so quickly. Sure, he was a little drunk, but unlike some of the other crazies who tried to hire him, Steve looked like he had found an interesting case. Usually Tony's adventures led him to Amazon caverns full of booby traps or desert treks across the Sahara to tombs that hadn't seen another human in a thousand years, but if the rings were in New York that could only make his job easier.

He thrust himself away from the desk sending his chair skittering across the cement floor of the garage. A ham and cheese sandwich sat on the table amidst wires and scraps of metal as it had for most of the morning. He vaguely remembered Jarvis leaving it there this morning when Tony was adjusting the hydraulics in the right leg of the Iron Man suit. Tony grabbed the plate and pushed off back to his desk. With one hand, he swept the various books and various papers aside to make space for his plate. One of the working copies of a Chinese manuscript that he had translated a while back fell to the ground with a hollow thud kicking up the layer of dust into the air.

The Rings of Axonn-Karr were mentioned in several of his texts, but often in frustratingly vague offhand accounts. Each text agreed that there were ten rings which would grant the user a power based on which ring was worn, but none of them would agree on what those powers were or even what the rings looked like. The powers even varied in scale from creating and storing thermal energy to time travel. Thrusting his hand through his hair roughly, he wished he had more information. If only he could- But no. As always, he had to work with the information that he collected. Detailed accounts about such artifacts were a blessing only outweighed by how rare they were.

Tony stood up and stretched his arms above his head as he munched on the last bit of his sandwich. His stomach growled and he sighed, but made his way over to the refrigerator. He pulled out all the fixings and was throwing together another sandwich when Pepper walked into the garage. She stepped carefully around the leg casing of the Iron Man suit that still sat disassembled by the hulking armor. The makings of a sandwich sat between them as she stood across the work table from him. She eyed it dubiously.

"Hungry?" Tony asked.

She raised an eyebrow silently still looking at the sandwich. Tony glanced down. A couple smears of grease marred the white bread. The leg of the suit was catching on the downward arc when he stepped so he got a little hands on before he delved into research. He shrugged and finished spreading mustard on the top slice covering up the grease before stacking it on the sandwich and taking a big bite. A little grease never hurt anyone.

"No," Ms. Potts said after a moment. "I think I'm fine."

"It wouldn't be a problem." Tony took another bite trying to hide his smile.

"That's okay, I've already eaten. I just was stopping by to drop off some notes I got on Rogers. I talked to one of my old friends who works at the newspaper and he was able to get it for me." She tossed a folder onto the table. Taped to the top, was a list of directions in Pepper's neat print and the address of the museum from the article. "He gave me a copy of his notes but there's not much there honestly. He really didn't want to talk about Steve. I tried to get even a description of the 'anonymous source' to make sure that we're not being lead on, but he wouldn't even give me that."

She raised a hand when Tony and continued before Tony could speak, "It's not that odd. Paranoid, sure, but reporters are protective of their sources. But what was strange was there's been a bit of pressure to keep this quite. Not enough to raise any hackles, but he almost got his article pulled and his boss already assigned him a higher profile murder case to look into."

"Who could do that?"

She shrugged, "Plenty of people. It could also just be a coincidence."

"Didn't he look into it?" Tony opened the folder and started flipping through it. There were a couple of notes from people he interviewed and who they were. The notes were a little more detailed than the newspaper article, but not by much.

"Of course he did, Mr. Stark. He's a reporter. We don't just let things lie. But something happened, and no he didn't mention what, that scared him off of this particular side project. You're lucky I got anything at all out of him."

"It's not much."

"Well, I haven't gotten to the fun part. He managed to get a picture of the rings."

"What? But that-"

"Well, a picture of a picture of the rings. They photographed the rings when they were doing inventory and the police took that picture, but they let him snap a picture of it when he went to the station. I have to meet some friends of mine, so if there isn't anything else I'll leave you to peruse the notes."

He flipped to the photo. It was dark and grainy with three rings at the center. Tony couldn't tell what material they were made of, but each one was elaborately engraved around a prominent jewel. Gaudy. He looked up as Pepper started to turn to leave and said, "There might be adventure where I'm going. As my chronicler isn't it your duty to come with me?"

"I have the day off and you're going to a museum. I don't think I'll miss much that you can't fill me in on. I'll be around, I promise, but I'm sure even you can find this mystery man of yours without getting into too much trouble. Do me a favor and if I'm wrong, remember that you're in New York there's plenty of phone booths all around the city. Call the police, get out of trouble, and tell me all about it tomorrow."

"I don't remember agreeing to a day off."

"And yet it's in my contract with the Marvel's magazine which I work for. Not you."

"If you're sure I can't convince you."

"I'm sure. Have a good day, Tony. Play nice." She was definitely softening on him.

He sighed. With Rhodey also claiming a day off, resistant to all of Tony's pleas to convince him otherwise, and Jarvis off running some errand or other, it looked like Tony was going to have to face Steve and the museum alone. Tony could do this just fine on his own, but he got used to having a little entourage that would follow him about. They were useful for sticking on people that Tony didn't want to talk to so that he could get into trouble even when he wasn't in a jungle or cavern.

He quickly ate the rest of his sandwich, stuffing into his mouth in a few quick bites. He brushed the crumbs off of his vest and patted his pants off getting rid of the accumulation of dust that was inevitable in the workshop. Slipping on his jacket, Tony flipped the lights off. Tony locked up the garage and headed out the front door nodding to the secretary on the way out.

Tony passed his fare to the cabbie and stepped out into the mid afternoon sun. He climbed the stairs and strode into the open doors of the museum.

The light was dim inside, with colored glass that filtered the light into red, green, and blue swaths. The entry way was mostly empty with only a handful of couples wandering about with their kids running around. Tony glanced for the information desk and saw a couple of burly figures under the sign and looming over the receptionist that stood behind the desk. Their ill-fitting suits only seemed to accentuate the fact that they were built like brick houses; he wanted to see if their shoulders were wider than his arm, but he resisted the temptation.

Tony tipped his hat down so that it shaded his eyes, wandered closer and started flipping through the brochures that sat on next to the desk angling so that his back was towards the goons. The goon closest to him was tan with a boxer's nose that looked like it was broken quite frequently and the hair Tony could glimpse from under Nose's cap looked unwashed and unkempt. His partner didn't look much better but sported a bushy beard so at least Nose had that going for him.

"-Listen, all we want to know is where this schmuck is." Nose's voice was gravelly like he smoked a pack of cigarettes an hour and ate dirt for breakfast. Tony felt bad for the man's throat.

"I don't know who you're-," The secretary objected. She was a small woman with light brown hair done up in a tight bun and blue eyes that darted around looking for a likely source of help. She stood back from the goons so that neither of them could just reach out and grab her, but she held her ground.

"Just tell us where we can find Rogers and we can leave; none of us wants to cause a commotion. We're looking into your missing rings case and a few questions that Rogers needs to answer."

"I don't know," the secretary hissed. "I told you already. He hasn't worked here for long and he's taken some personal time since the-"

"Wait a moment, doll," Beard said holding up a hand to cut her off and whispered something to Nose.

Nose glanced over at Tony, took a step forward and grabbed Tony's shoulder spinning him around.

"You," he said before Tony ripped himself away and dashed down the hallway. Tony had fought bigger guys with more training and experience than this guy could ever dream of getting, but not hand to hand and not when they got the jump on him. Rhodey ribbed him that he ran away an awful lot, but Tony preferred to think of it as leading the enemy to a more optimal position. Darting through the exit, Tony cut past a pair coming into the museum bumping shoulders with one of them. This trip to the museum was a lot more exciting than the last time he was dragged here by his latest girlfriend.

Tony emerged into the crowded sidewalk. When he glanced over his shoulder the thug was already on his tail. But where Tony slid through the crowds brushing lightly against people's shoulders and hips, Nose forced his way past thrusting people out of the way so that they fell to the ground. The crowd thickened around Nose as he creeped closer to Tony. Someone started shouting for the police as Tony turned a corner and was out of sight of the commotion.

Tony ran. He dodged through the heavy traffic to a chorus of honks. Tony slowed his headlong sprint into a jog and then into a walk. He stopped near an ice cream parlor and leaned over panting and clutching the stitch in his side as he tried to smooth his ragged breathing. Whoever was paying those men obviously told them to look out for him. His face was pretty well known, after all. He glanced at his watch. Barely five minutes since arriving at the museum and they'd already chased him out.

Tony watched the flow of foot traffic. Men and women strolled and no one paid him any particular attention except for the slight ripple he caused when they had to walk around him. Straightening, Tony took a deep breath taking in the scent of car exhaust and garbage mixed with the sweet perfume and cologne of the people walking past. He held the air. Waited for a moment. Exhaled. The stitch in his side disappeared as his breathed.

Ice cream sounded good right now.

Chocolate ice cream melted in his mouth as he stepped back out into the street a short while later. He watched the street looking for either of the goons that were in the museum, but it looked like he was alone. Other than going back to the museum, Tony wasn't sure if there was any other place that he could find Steve. Even if the goons weren't there, though, no one would be willing to talk to Tony either. He flagged down a cab and climbed inside amid the butts of cigarettes.

Buildings inched by as the cabbie plodded through traffic. Shoppers moved in and out of buildings holding colorful bags and the homeless sat on the sidewalk listlessly with cardboard signs. The cab filled with cigarette smoke as the cabbie lit up another cigarette. The museum had been a total bust. Tony almost understood the goons after Steve, but why would they be looking out for Tony? This was the first time he had even gone out and looked into the case.

A shock of bright blond hair flashed passed as someone thumped on engine of the cab, pushed off and was gone.

Tony's jaw dropped as he watched Steve pass cut past the rest of the cars to the sidewalk. Steve was wearing a simple white shirt with suspenders. His face was set in a deep scowl as he flew past the still cars. Not a moment later, six men ran after him carrying Tommy guns. The honks that resounded whenever Steve rebounded off of a car were curiously missing when one of the men with the Tommy Guns cut someone off. Who was chasing Steve with _Tommys_? For God's sake-

Blinking out of his shock, Tony thrust a dollar at the cabbie with a quick word to keep the change. He jumped out of the car and followed after Steve. He wouldn't get a better chance than now.

Tony kept a half a block between him and the slowest of the mobsters as they ran down the streets. Tony couldn't even see Steve and hoped at least the mobsters he was following could. Tony was only keeping a quarter of a mind on where they were headed until he noticed the streets getting rougher and rougher. When the mobsters halted at the mouth of an alleyway, the streets were almost empty with only an occasional car zipping past. Tony stood out conspicuously as he slowed to a walk so he didn't run into the mobsters.

Someone came up behind Tony and shoved him forward so that he fell to his knees near to the mobsters. His knees ached where they hit the ground and Tony knew they were going to be bruised tonight. He was going to need a new pair of slacks. Starting to stand, Tony was halfway on his feet when he felt more than saw the barrel of the pistol being pressed against his forehead. The seventh member of this mob appeared.

Gritting his teeth as the cold metal of the gun dug into his skin, Tony took in the mobsters sweating brow and tight muscles. The pistol against his forehead might be uncomfortable, but it was stupid way to hold a gun. Before the mobster would be able to get off a shot, Tony could knock the barrel of the Tommy away, stand up and drive his palm into the fella's jaw knocking him down and out. The other five guys with Tommies were standing far enough away, on the other hand, to be able to turn his corpse into confetti before he was able to get much farther than knocking the one guy out.

Tony raised his hands in surrender and started to stand up, but before he could get more than a knee under him the Tommy swung back and clocked him on the forehead opening a gash. Tony folded over clutching his head. He felt blood trickling down his face into his eye as he tried in vain to stop it by wiping it away with the sleeve of his coat.

"Don't move and tell us who you are and why the fuck you're following us." the guy with the pistol demanded. Tony looked up still pressing his sleeve to his forehead.

One of the other men stepped closer and shoved the gun holder. "Don't you recognize him, bozo? That's Tony Stark! Star of Marvel's adventure rag? I lent you a copy the other day."

"I don't know anything about no rag. Why's he following us?"

"Obviously he's not following us, you moron. He's probably after the rings."

"Listen. Gentlemen. I can explain-" Tony grunted as a kick caught him in the gut forcing him to double over again. He coughed as he tried to catch his breath. Goddamnit, why did everyone demand information and then beat him up before he even had a chance to say anything.

"Shut up!"

"Don't kick him. He's _Tony Stark._ He's-"

"He's been following us for at least the last two blocks. I don't give a shit if he's the president of the United fucking States; I want to know why the fuck he's following us."

"If you'll just let me-" Tony started to say before he noticed a silver flash on the edge of his vision.

A trashcan lid knocking aside one of the Tommy's out of the hands of a mobster. It ricocheted and hurtled into another man's arm catching it at the elbow and forcing it into a sharp angle with a loud cracking sound. Everyone started to turn away from him to face the alleyway where the lid flew out of and Tony took his chance.

He reached up, wrapping one hand around the barrel of the Tommy that was still pointed in his general direction. He pushed it to the side and ripped it out of Beat-em-up's grip as he used it to leverage himself off the ground. He spun it around so that his left hand wrapped firmly around the trigger. The safety was flicked off when he snatched the weapon from Beat-em-up. Tony squeezed the trigger once. Twice. Blood sprayed onto his suit as two more men fell to the ground crumbling around their ruined knees. Ignoring the pain in his ribs and his head, Tony started sprinting towards the alleyway. Three down, four to go.

He was behind the solid steel dumpster before the first shot rang out. Steve stood next to a small trash bin which stank of rotting food and was missing its lid. An alleyway narrow enough so that even though the sun was out it was dark with shadows. Steve grabbed his arm and dragged him into the alleyway a small push sending Tony into a stumble that turned into a sprint.

They turned down another alleyway by the time the goons had stopped shooting at the dumpster and emerged from out of the alleyway. Steve was right on his heels not even panting as Tony ran. Pot shots began tearing shards of brick from the walls of the alleyway, but nothing was close to hitting them. The goons were trying to shoot while they ran ruining any chance they had at aiming.

"Right," Steve shouted as Tony approached an opening. Tony darted down it, trusting Steve to direct him. He stopped running and leaned against the corner. As soon as Steve barreled past him, Tony leaned out and took three shots not bothering to aim. There were nine more bullets in the magazine, but the goons probably had spares unlike Tony. Still it had the desired effect of making the goons flinging themselves to cover.

Steve cursed and grabbed Tony's shoulder ripping the Tommy from his hand throwing his back against the brick wall. "Go," Steve said. "I'll keep them busy. Get to the street and turn left. First apartment on your right go straight inside and down the hall. Apartment 101 has a key under the welcome mat. Get inside and leave the door unlocked."

Tony wanted to protest. After all, he was the adventurer. Steve wasn't paying him any attention as Steve stared back around the corner and let off a shot whenever the goons popped a head out. Instead of arguing, Tony turned and ran. When he emerged from the alleyway, he found himself on a nice but empty street. The apartment had a small white staircase and Tony lept over the three small steps using the railing to propel himself up. The wooden door with flakes of green paint turning where they were coming off opened easily.

The first door on his right was Apartment 101. When Tony lifted the corner of the brown welcome mat he found a brass key and let himself into the apartment. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve. Blood still oozed down the scratch but slower than before. He hurried over to the blinds behind the canvas couch and pulled them shut. His heart pounded as he waited for Steve.

Tony glanced around and he took off his jacket and threw it on the back of a couch. The walls were painted a creamy white and Tony rested his back against them near the door breathing heavily. This was the second time today he had been chased, although it was the first time with guns. He listened in the silent room for any sound of anyone entering the building.

A moment later, Tony heard the sound of a door hitting the walls the sound of someone bursting into the building and Steve flew into the room locking the door behind him. The Tommy was gone, probably abandoned when the ammo ran out.

Steve whirled around looking for Tony. He waved when Steve's wide eyes finally found him and watched as Steve heaved a breath of relief. Before Tony could even say a word, Steve grabbed a fistful of fabric raising Tony up so that he was forced to balance on the tops of his toes to try and relieve the pressure that Steve put on his throat.

"What are you doing here?" Steve hissed. "You almost got shot!"

"So did you," Tony said. He wiggled trying to move away from the way but Steve stood braced against any of Tony's efforts.

"Just answer my question," Steve said with a scowl.

"First, let me go."

"No. First, tell me-"

Tony grabbed a handful of fabric near Steve's elbow and dropped relaxing so that all of his weight was on the elbow. Predictable, Steve's elbow folded giving Tony enough of a chance to take a step sideways so he was no longer pinned to the wall. Nausea rolled through his stomach and bruised ribs and Tony had to grab the back of the couch to keep his legs from collapsing but he was away from the wall.

Steve could've kept his grip, he realized, if Steve expected the move and braced himself against it. Steve was at least double Tony's weight and he would bet a dime it was mostly muscle. He had picked up a few tricks while traveling, but he had barely moved Steve. He held his hands out and backed away creating some breathing room between them.

"I wasn't following you," Tony said after he had caught his breath. "I was looking for you; maybe not my best decision. But I got chased out of the museum by some of your friends who were looking for you and-"

"You what?" Steve shouted.

"I got away. Then you ran past my ride home so I decided to lend a hand."

"Why were you even at the museum?" Steve tilted his head skeptically. "You were pretty adamant about how you weren't going to get involved."

"Yeah, well, I had a change of heart. Does it matter? I thought you were desperate for help."

"I want your help, but you shouldn't be here. It isn't safe." Steve peeked out the window glancing at out at the street.

"Oh yes, because my adventures are perfectly safe and Pepper writes all about how I stay home and smoke cigars all day. I didn't-"

"Will you keep it down? They're outside!"

"Fine," Tony said with a roll of his eyes. He always seemed to be surrounded by worry warts. Wiping the blood off of his face with one hand, Tony went into the kitchen and started rummaging around flipping open cupboard drawers. He grabbed a towel and tossed it over his shoulder and grabbed the first aid kit that was stuffed near the back. He pulled a pair of glasses off the shelves and set on the counter when he came upon them. Steve trailed after him looking like a lost puppy, until Tony gave a shout of success and Steve looked like he wanted to strangle him.

Holding up an almost full bottle of vodka, Tony said, "Just what the doctor ordered."

"Do you really think-"

"I got this. Bring the glasses," Tony said and he twirled through the kitchen door. Pain shot through his skull making him stumble slightly. Okay, so no spinning and he might a concussion. Probably not. Either way, one drink wouldn't hurt anything. He plopped onto the couch and poured a generous dollop into each cup before soaking one corner of his towel with vodka.

Steve lurked near the blinds trying to get a glimpse outside without giving away their position. As Tony wiped the cut with the cloth, he hissed as the cut stung. Methodically he cleaned the cut. He pulled out a couple of the small cotton squares out of the first-aid kit and the medical tape. He ripped the tape into a few pieces and stuck them onto the coffee table and secured the cotton squares to his forehead. He wiped the blood that had trickled down his face off and took a big swig of his glass of vodka.

Standing up unsteadily, he was about to go take a look out of the window when there was a knock on the door. Tony froze. The person outside started pounding on the door and started shouting, "Ey! Anyone home? Just want to ask a couple questions."

Tony felt like he could hear the blood pounding in his ears. He held his breath. A second ticked past. Two. He barely dared to breathe.

Two sharp gunshots sounded causing Tony to flinch away from the windows. Tony crept to the window sill aware of every soft scrape his shoes made against the carpet. He eased up one of the blinds and peaked outside. Steve made an aborted motion to stop him, but it was too late.

The goons were standing around near the alleyway. Tony could see one of the men shouting and heard the muffled sound of it through the thick walls. "Okay," Tony breathed, "I think their leaving."

Steve sighed from where he was leaning against the wall next to Tony. A slight grin flashed onto his face and he said, "Thank God for that."

Tony grabbed a fistful of Steve's shirt and pulled him down and over into a kiss. His mouth mashed against Steve's in an almost painful pleasure. Tony wasn't going to lose this chance like he had at the party to kiss the infernal man. When Tony pulled away, Steve had a faint look of surprise turned into apprehension as Tony glared at him. "Who are you, Steve Rogers?" Tony bit out. "How did you learn to handle yourself so well?"

"Captain, remember?" Steve grinned. "Does this mean you've decided to take my case?"

"I'm not a damn private dick. But yes. I've been looking into the rings."

Steve nodded like there never had been any other outcome and perhaps if the number of people who were after him indicated anything he was right. Tony could never resist a blond in danger. God damn it. He didn't like being so predictable.

Steve blinked his bright blue eyes innocently. "Have you found out anything?"

Tony started pacing the small room. "Why is the mob after these rings? Who-"

The phone cut Tony off. "Whoa. Hold on a second," Steve said holding up a hand. He picked up the phone from the receiver. "Hello, this is Steve Rogers speaking." He tilted his head to the side listening to the phone.

"Really," Tony asked himself in exasperation. "You're actually answering the phone. Is this even your house?

Steve ignored him turning his back to Tony as he cradled the phone against his ear. "No, I'm alright but there's been some unexpected company when I was stopping by to check on the cats."

"What the hell," Tony said throwing up his hands and stalking from the room. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need me."

Tony leaned against the kitchen counter with the bottle of vodka and muttered, "I told Pepper she should have come. Adventure. Daring escapes. It's never boring around me. I _told_ her. No one ever believes me." The vodka burned as it went down.

He could feel the sweat drying on his skin and his ribs ached where they were kicked. He was going to have a nasty bruise there tomorrow. As the adrenaline wore off the aches of being kicked around were coming back. Glancing around, Tony took in the apartment Steve brought him to. It was homey and the large kitchen table that was worn with use suggested a family of four or five. His head settled onto the table and he traced a scratch with a finger pushing the pad of it along the grove.

The door to the kitchen banged open and Steve marched in. Tony lifted his glass in a mock salute. "Finished talking to your friends?"

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose like he was in pain. "Tony, it was just-"

"I don't care." Tony waved away the explanation before Steve could start. "I want to know who those men were. Why were they trying to kill you?"

"God only knows. I noticed someone following me after the party, but this is the first time they came after me with guns," Steve said with a sigh. Tony peered at Steve and finally noticed the bags under his eyes.

"They were looking for you at the museum," Tony said. "I managed to stumble upon a couple of them there. They didn't have guns, but they recognized me and tried to grab me. I gave them the slip but-"

Steve slammed a hand onto the counter startling Tony into spilling a couple of drops over his hand. "Why would they be after you?" Steve asked his voice tight with frustration.

Setting the glass down, Tony stood and grabbed a hand towel from the counter and wiped off his fingers and his drink. Raising his eyebrows, Tony said, "They weren't. At least, I assume they were looking for you."

"But-," Steve shook his head and glanced to the side. "I didn't mean to put you in danger. This wasn't supposed to happen."

Tony's fingers tapped against his glass as he thought. "We need to talk."

"We are," Steve said his voice losing some of the tension. A spark of annoyance coursed through him at Steve's light tone. Tony wondered if this was how Jarvis felt every time he waved away his near scrapes.

"No, I mean you should come to the lab with me. We'll be safe there. Even if they follow us, there's enough people there that they won't try anything."

"What are you talking about? Do you really think they're going to try again?"

"Don't you?" Tony turned his back to Steve as he looked over the kitchen as he enumerated his points, ticking off a finger with each reason. "You don't send a gang of ten people after someone if you're planning on taking no for an answer. They've been stalking you, apparently for several days. They were looking for you at the museum. They-"

"Alright, alright. You're right."

"You can stay with me. I have a spare bedroom that you could use," Tony offered lightly not glancing over at Steve. He consciously tried to relax the muscles in his shoulders as he waited for Steve's response. After today, he wasn't going to let Steve out of his sight for a moment whether Steve wanted to come or not. If Steve refused though, Tony wasn't sure how he could keep Steve around.

Steve still hadn't answered and Tony could just about feel Steve's stare boring through his spin. Spinning on one heel, he turned to face Steve who regarded him with an upraised eyebrow and one hand on each hip. Steve said, "I thought you were offering more than that the other night."

"And you ran off before we had a chance -"

"You're the one who kicked me out!" Steve yelled over Tony. They both glanced around wide eyed half expecting to hear someone at the door. After a moment, Steve said in a low voice, "You sent me away."

"Well, I didn't think I was interviewing a client when I invited you over. Again, we're getting off subject. We should stick together while this is going on. At least, if they're going to be targeting both of us then we might as well. They're going to have the numbers on their side, but-"

"Wouldn't it be better if we split up then? I mean, if they have numbers on their side then finding separate hiding places might be more effective."

"If we were going to stay on the defensive, then yeah. Sure. Splitting up would probably be the way to go. But we're going to find the damn rings and we'll find the people who're sending these people after us."

"I'm not sure. Shouldn't -"

"Steve, we were almost killed half an hour ago. _Maybe_ hiding separately would be helpful if they were planning on kidnapping us, but those guys had some pretty big guns that they were fine with using to mow us down. At least, if we're staying in the same place we can watch each other's back. You were alright back there."

"I know."

"Humble, too."

"If I'm coming with you, then we're stopping at my apartment first."

"Fine. Just as long as we can go already." Tony tipped the drink back finishing it off and set the glass down in the sink.

"How did your friends know we were here?"

"How could they? It was just luck that they happened to call. I would've called them myself if they hadn't thought." Steve frowned over at Tony and he could hear the disapproval in Steve's voice as Steve said, "I'm already owe them a bottle of vodka."

Tony sighed in exasperation. "I did _not_ drink that much. Two glasses. That's it. Look, I'm not even tipsy," Tony said and proceeded to walk in a straight line placing one foot straight in front of the other. Tony moved past Steve, their shoulders barely touching, but he stopped with one hand on the door handle.

Just in case any goons were lurking outside, they left the apartment through a back entrance that emptied out into a dingy alleyway. Peaking around the corner, Steve looked around nodded, satisfied that no one awaited them and motioned Tony past. The dumpster's putrid smell sent Tony into a fit of cough and he covered up his nose trying to breathe through his mouth. When they were running through alleyway, Tony hadn't even noticed the scent.

"We'll call the police when we find a phone booth," Steve said as they approached the street.

They had to walk a couple blocks before they found a busy street with a phone booth. Steve stepped inside and waved at Tony to go catch a cab while he talked. Tony waved down a taxi, got inside, and gave the man a tip to wait for Steve to finish his call. Soon, Steve slid in next to Tony. Tony sat back and rested his head against the back of his seat and closed his eyes as Steve rattled off his address.

The cab ride was uneventful and Tony found himself slipping into a doze as the cab inched across town. The adrenaline was gone and so every bone in his body ached. His head throbbed where he had been bleeding earlier, but at least he wasn't feeling dizzy. Rhodey wouldn't have let him even doze for fear of a concussion, but Steve, thankfully, seemed content to let Tony rest.

He must have drifted off because Tony woke up to Steve shaking his shoulder. Steve paid the cabbie and Tony followed him silently into an apartment building.

It wasn't that Tony was unaware of how bad the depression was. Not that anyone who could read thought the economy was good, but he didn't usually have his face pressed into the poverty that struck so many people. Most of the time, the depression seemed like a distant thing. Stark Industries took a massive hit, but was able to remain afloat and keep a good chunk of his people on.

Here, however, it was impossible to ignore the fact that millions were out of work. The sidewalks were crowded with people milling about the sidewalks in front of the shabby apartment buildings; unlike downtown, no one here seemed in a hurry to go anywhere. Most of them were probably out of work by the looks of the worn jackets and torn pants. Tony felt conspicuous in his suit that looked all too new in comparison to everyone else on the street.

"Let's hurry up this trip, eh," Tony muttered.

Stepping inside Tony tried to keep from wrinkling his nose in dismay. Floral wallpaper peeled unpleasantly. Children ran unsupervised down the hall and Tony dodged out of the way so he didn't get run down by a couple teenagers chasing each other. Steve hustled Tony up the stairs which were in surprisingly good condition considering the rest of the building.

Even Steve, who cloths weren't new, looked better off than many of the people lurking in the hallway. Was Steve living here to save money? At least Steve had a job, which was more than most of these unfortunates could say.

On the fourth flight of stairs, Steve finally turned into the hallway and led Tony to a cramped little one room apartment. Tony, who considered himself to be in relatively good shape felt out of breath and his ribs _ached._ There wasn't the quite the stabbing pain that he would associate with broken ribs but they were probably bruised. He leaned against the door frame and tried to breathe slowly and watched as Steve locked the window and tidied the room.

The room was cleaner than most of the building with everything placed seemingly with care. Tony could just see the same wallpaper in this room, but it was buried under small sketches of people and the skyscraper that were pinned to the wall. A small drafting desk - probably where Steve to sketched - sat by the window with a few of broken pencils resting next to a worn notebook.

"Nice place," Tony said.

"I've seen yours. You don't have to be patronizing. I know it's not great, but it's cheap." Steve said hunching his shoulders defensively.

"Hey, no offence. I was just - you don't look like most of the people in the building. You're at least decently dressed and you have a job. Why here?"

"I grew up around here. I know most of the people." Steve tilted his head with a slight smile. "And the museum doesn't pay that well."

"You could always come work for me."

Steve laughed as he shook his head no and Tony continued defensively, "I'm not pulling your tail. I've been down an assistant since my last one turned out to be a Nazi spy who tried to murder me. You've already shown yourself to be pretty handy, so why not join me and fight the good fight again?"

"I already have a job, in case you've forgotten." Steve pulled out a worn navy duffle bag from a corner of the room flopping onto the bed. He grabbed art supplies; Tony caught a glimpse of pencils, pens and some paper, as they were pressed flat on the bottom of the bag. Steve pulled an oddly shaped small black bag and put on top of the paper. The object inside looked rectangular and Steve handled it delicately. Tony tried to think of what it could be, feeling oddly reluctant to ask when he heard the scrape of metal against metal.

They both froze. Steve stood next to the bed, hands full of clothes that he had half in his bag.

Stepping away from the bedside table where Steve had pictures of himself and army buddies in uniform, Tony crept over to the door. When he knelt, he could see two pairs of shoes on the other side of the door.

Tony was halfway to the window when Steve reached under his bed and grabbed a round painted metal dish. He motioned Tony out of the way and stepped up next to the door his hand lightly resting over the door handle. In one smooth motion, Steve threw open the door smashing the dish into the man kneeling with lock picks in hand. Leaping forward, Steve barreled into the next man tackling him to the ground.

Tony moved into the doorway. The man who Steve knocked over with his dish was getting to his feet. Tony balled his fist and threw a punch into the man's jaw so that the man fell limply to the ground. Where were these people coming from? In all likelihood they were probably followed from the house, but then why didn't the hit squad with the Tommy Guns just take them out then?

Tony noticed the odd bump under the man's jacket and when he flipped the jacket out of the way he found a .22 revolver. He sighed and relieved the man of his heat.

Steve stood up with bloody knuckles. The other man's nose looked broken and Tony winced in sympathy, though not much. Maybe they probably hadn't expected Steve to be here. Either way, coming in with .22's and picking his door wasn't a particularly neighborly thing to do. No one came out to investigate the noise. In fact, the hallway was practically deserted. If it wasn't for the two other attacks today, he would suspect these two were just your average burglars.

"We should get out of here," Tony said.

"One second." Steve ran back into the room and picked up his rucksack, flung it over his shoulder, and was back before Tony could say anything. Steve grabbed Tony's hand and pulled him through the hallway leading him downstairs.

Once they were outside, Steve led Tony down a series of increasingly smaller twisting roads but they were bring them closer to true civilization.

About an hour later, they arrived at the lab without an incident. Tony couldn't tell if it was because they were in a better part of town, or if they had finally shaken their pursuers. Steve looked around with interest as they entered the reception. Unlike the rest of the lab, the reception was decorated with art. Paintings were hung on the walls with green plants lending a bit of life to the place. A handful of people were coming and going. Tony passed it without comment practically dragging Steve through past the hulking security guard to his lab.

"Who is this," Jarvis said as they entered. Jarvis narrowed his eyes as he glared at them and Tony couldn't help but notice the welding torch that Jarvis held fisted in one hand. Rhodey stood behind Jarvis with a slight grin on his face; the bastard looked like he was well on his way to fall into loud guffaws.

"Captain Steve Rogers, I'd like you to meet Jarvis. He's the one who is missing the rings." Tony stepped back as Steve went to shake Jarvis' hand.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Jarvis. Tony has-"

"You told me that you were just curious, Tony," Jarvis said ignoring Steve's proffered hand. "You told me that you had some free time and just were looking a few things up for fun. I come back today and I find the lab like this." Jarvis gestured widely at the lab with a pointed look at Tony's work station which books and papers were still thrown about chaotically. "I was gone three hours. Three hours! And I come back-"

"Did the secretary warn you we were coming in? Because you seem entirely too prepared to yell at me."

"I come back to check on you this afternoon and you've half destroyed the office. How can you even find anything here?"

"Easier than before I got it set up," Tony said crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Oh, yes? Try and find the blueprints for the Mark VIII. I think I'd like to glance at them."

"Look, that's not the point."

"What happened to your head?" Rhodey asked.

Jarvis glanced up sharply and a great sigh escaped out of him. "Bloody hell, Tony. What were you _doing_?"

"Its fine," Tony said backing up. "I'm fine. It's just a little scratch."

Jarvis dropped the torch and strode over. Tony tried to dart out of reach, but he ran into Steve who had started creeping towards the towering suit of armor and Jarvis' iron grip grabbed his chin and tilted his head down so that he could see the wound. "Tony..."

"No. I'm fine."

Jarvis sniffed as Tony spoke. "A head wound and you still decided to have a drink?" He glanced over at Steve and asked, "How bad was it?"

"Hey, I'm right-"

"He was a little dizzy earlier and he's been a little woozy, but it stopped bleeding by the time we got it bandaged up. He should be fine."

"You let him have a drink?" Jarvis asked.

"I didn't let him do anything. I've met him once and I'm asking for help. I'm not really in a position to stop him from having a glass."

"Fair enough."

"We've more important things to talk about than a small scratch. Like the rings for example."

"Steve can wait till you let me take a look at you scratch and it will go faster if you stop whining like a child." Jarvis put his hands on his waist and glared at him. Tony sighed. Sure, history suggested he was a little reckless but it was like no one trusted him.

"But Jarvis," Tony said pouting out his lower lip, "I don't want to."

Jarvis rolled his eyes turning on his heel to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit. Tony sighed and grabbed a chair spinning around to watch Steve. While the attention had been diverted to Tony, Steve cautiously approached one of the armor's in the lab. Polished steel gleamed and the armors maw gapped open revealing a padded seat for the operator. It towered over even Steve's impressive height at almost 3 meters.

Three more armors sat in the back of the garage with cloths draped over them. Bulky arms and legs peaked out from under the cloth. The latest design had reduced a lot of the extra mass as they were able to reduce the joint mechanism, so although the armor still had an impressive height it had lost a lot of the extra width.

"I thought you swore off beautiful assistants?" Rhodey murmured from behind Tony.

Tony glanced up at Rhodey and blinked in faux surprise. "Who, Steve? I couldn't possibly know what you're talking about."

"Be careful, Tony. If this one ends up collapsing a cave on us, I'm reserving the right to say that I never trusted him from the start."

Jarvis came back to the room and snapped, "Stay away from that." Steve jumped back looking faintly guilty. He held up his hands and trailed behind Jarvis. Metal met cement cutting through the soft hum of machinery as Jarvis tossed the first aid kit to the ground.

"Don't squirm," Jarvis said as he grabbed the edge of the tape and pulled it off slowly. Hissing as the small hairs were ripped away, Tony tried to hold still.

"I could do this myself, you know." Tony said. Blood soaked cotton was placed on his lap and Jarvis pulled out a small cloth and soaked it in rubbing alcohol and dabbed around the cut. Tony hissed as the alcohol stung the wound.

"It doesn't look like it will need stitches," Jarvis said, "and it's stopped bleeding. You don't have to go to the hospital." Jarvis pulled out a couple butterfly bandages and tapped the wound shut. Tony flinched but held still so that Jarvis could finish. "How's your charge?"

"It's fine, _mother_. I have the orichalcum, remember." Tony thumped his chest and his fingers bounced against the metal plating on his chest.

Jarvis raised a single eyebrow, obviously doubting Tony, but he didn't say anything. Probably, if Steve wasn't around, Tony might have been bullied into recharging. But while he talked about the reactor openly, it was another thing to literally open his chest and show a practical stranger. Anyways, while the orichalcum wasn't a cure it had extended his recharge rate by a hundredfold. He could practically go a year without recharging as long as he forwent using the suit.

Jarvis and Rhodey dragged him back to his apartment. Steve followed doggedly, obviously worn out from the day's exertions. It was a brisk fifteen minute walk to Tony's apartment. Jarvis said goodnight at the door and headed to his own apartment as the rest of them headed to Tony's penthouse.

"Who were those people after you?" Tony asked after everyone settled into comfortable positions.

"They're after the ring, I think."

Tony rolled his eyes and gave a little snort. "You think?"

"Well, they haven't exactly been asking nicely," Steve said. "This only started after me after the party. The rings were stolen eight days ago. Why would they only start now if they were after the rings? I was cataloging the inventory at the museum when we just received this donation from an estate. I was still checking their authenticity, when they were stolen. I only found out the next day when I went in and I couldn't find them. The police took the pictures I took of them, but I've sketched them out."

Steve reached inside of his bag and drew out a sketch pad. "They were very old. I hadn't been able to pin down an exact time frame but they were from China and I suspect anywhere from 2,000 to 2,300 years old."

Taking out a loose leaf of paper, Steve passed it to Rhodey who sat next to him. The corner was ripped away where Steve tore it from his notebook and the graphite was smudged with fingerprints, but Steve had done a good job sketching the rings. Each ring looked like it had been set with a precious jewel and Steve noted by each one the metal that it was made of: two gold and one silver.

If it hadn't been for the roving bands of gangsters that were looking for them, Tony would have suspected that it was a theft of chance. Someone broke in and happen to see these and grabbed them because they looked expensive. But whoever stole them didn't want Steve or Tony looking into this crime.

"Did they take anything else?" Rhodey asked while Tony examined the sketch.

Steve shook his head. "Just the rings. Mr. Smith donated them to the museum in his will. They were pretty worn and beaten up when we got them, and I'd been trying to restore them. The damage looked largely surface. The lawyer sent us the rings last week, but I don't know who other than his family would have known about the rings being at the museum."

Tony said, "But the rings were definitely targeted, so someone there in that family seems like a likely suspect."

"Yeah." Steve shrugged. "I don't even know if Mr. Smith had any other family, though. His lawyer just delivered the rings with a letter to the museum director."

"Pepper might know how to find out," Rhodey said.

"She'll at least know someone who knows someone who can find out who and where we can find Mr. Smith's relatives if there are any." Tony was mildly confident that she wouldn't mind. It would be the second favor he asked of her within the same number of days, but she was a safe person to owe a favor. Especially since he rescued her from almost certain death.

Rhodey glanced at his watch. "It's getting a little late. I might head home before the bus' stop running. Are you going to be alright, Tony? Do you need me to stay?"

"I don't have a concussion. Shoo, go home. Sleep."

"Call Pepper tomorrow, Tony. Sooner she knows, sooner we'll get answers."

"I will, I will."

Steve waited in the living room as Tony showed Rhodey out. Rhodey paused by the door getting his jacket out from the closet and said softly, "Be careful, Tony. You barely know this guy."

"I knew my last beautiful assistant quite well, and she kidnapped Pepper. Also tried to kill me, but plenty of people do that." Tony shrugged. "I don't think Steve can be worse than her."

"That is not reassuring."

"I know."

Rhodey slipped into the jacket and straightened his collar as he said, "Just watch your back alright? I don't want to have to find another employer right after I've broken you in."

"You say the sweetest things."

"Good night, Tony."

Tony slid the deadbolt shut when Rhodey left and went back to the living room. Steve was admiring the trophies that decorated his wall. The last time he had gone to a safari was before he had gotten a chest full of shrapnel and gotten the reactor installed in his chest. After that, he started going on quest after quest to try and find something that would fix his broken body and hadn't had time to go hunting. Despite the orichalcum shard reducing his dependence on electrocution as a method to stay alive, the war almost guaranteed that Tony would go hunting any time soon either.

As Tony grabbed Steve's bag from where it was left by the entrance to the living room, Steve turned to face him. "Shall I show you the guest room?"

"Sure, if you don't mind." Steve glanced at the bag in Tony's hands and took a half step forward. "I get my bag."

"It's heavier than it looks," Tony said hefting the bag, "but I can get it."

Steve followed him down the hall to the guest room. Tony watched as Steve pulled out shirts from the rutbag and started folding them into the dresser. Tony eyed Steve's ass as he leaned over to pick out another shirt from his bag. "Are you sure you want to spend the night here alone?" Tony asked.

"I'm fine here," Steve said without looking up. "I appreciate it, really, but-"

"Not the right time, not the right person. It's fine. I just thought the other night and earlier..."

Steve carefully set down the shirt he was folding pressing it into the mattress. Moving smoothly, Steve walked over to Tony and wrapped a hand around the back of Tony's head. Pressure from Steve's hand pulled him into a kiss while Steve's fingers tangled in his hair. Rough cotton brushed against his fingertips as his hands trailed down Steve's sleeves and Steve's breath tickled his goatee smelling faintly of alcohol.

"I'm interested," Steve breathed, "but not yet. Solve this case and then we can talk about more."

"What? This time, you're the one who kissed me. You don't get to take it back." Tony stepped forward but stopped when Steve backed away.

"Look, I don't want to stop either, but this isn't the right time. It's been a rough day and you should really get some sleep. Let's get to know each other first. I don't want to rush into anything."

"What do I need to know? You're attractive and we both want to." Tony crossed his arms. "What am I missing?"

"Nothing. Just-" Steve looked at his feet and glanced up through his lashes at Tony. "Maybe after all of this is over. Today has been-"

"No, whatever. It's fine. The offer's still open if you change your mind. The kitchen is yours if you get hungry. I'm not sure what's stocked but I'm sure you'd be able to find something." He wasn't sure what was causing Steve to melt into his arms one moment and then pull back before anything more than a kiss could happen.

"Tony-" Steve looked upset but Tony couldn't quite bring himself to care. He was used to rejection, but that didn't mean he had gotten any more graceful in taking no for an answer.

Tony shut the door before Steve could follow him out to the hall. Not everyone approved of his hedonistic lifestyle. But he found that life was too short to deny himself. On the other hand, the person who rebuffed him usually stayed at whatever speakeasy Tony found himself at and didn't follow him home. Unfortunately, it looked like Steve was going to be the exception to that as well.

He regretted Rhodey being so quick to head out. Maybe if Steve's morals were a little looser- But they weren't. He grabbed the crystal decanter of whiskey and retreated back to his bedroom before Steve worked up the courage to venture out of his room. Alcohol might not solve all his problems, but it would put a pleasant haze on the one's it couldn't.

* * *

The next day, Tony called Pepper and set her on tracking down a Mr. Smith. He half betted the connection with the museum would help her track down the man more than the generic name; after all, they didn't even have a matching first name since Steve failed to remember it. He called a few of his contacts who fancied themselves 'mystics.' In the past, they pointed him in the direction of some very valuable artifacts and some of them had a finger in black market goods too. Pepper appeared once and scolded him for running off without her. She then proceeded to interrogate him about the attacks.

At some point, Jarvis stopped by to "check up on them," drink his whiskey, and - when he caught Tony peaking at his ribs in the kitchen - wrap Tony's ribs. The skin under the reactor turned a lovely shade of green and purple overnight, but Tony was confident that they were bruised not cracked not that anyone listened to him. Still, Tony could barely move and sat on the couch for the rest of the day and made Steve bring him food, books, and scotch.

The next day, Tony discovered he might have over indulged on the scotch. He woke up with his head pounding at the edges of his skull. Fumbling at the bedside table, he grabbed the glass of water and took a large swig. Did he put out the glass last night? Was it - Tony rubbed his face with one hand - Jarvis? He tried to claw out from the fog that mornings always brought with them. He squinted around the blindly where the light that streamed from the windows saturated his vision so that he could barely see his bed.

His stomach rolled and it felt like it was trying to escape through his throat. Holding his breath and fighting down nausea, Tony flung himself out of bed and stumbled towards the adjacent bathroom. The movement set off spikes of pain in his ribs and his head. He stumbled to the bathroom and grabbed the toilet before he lost control over his stomach and vomited up what felt like his last four meals. Another good morning.

About an hour and a half later, Tony stumbled into the kitchen showered and shaved. He blinked at the coffee maker that rested on the stove. When he picked it up, it was wonderfully heavy and warm to the touch. He pulled a mug down, filled it up, and settled at the table sipping the hot coffee. Steve came out from the guest bedroom, looking quite delicious wearing only a pair of slacks. The muscles that had been hinted at were clearly defined.

When Tony shook his head to clear it, pain spiked through his skull like a nail driven through his eyes. He pressed the palm of his hand into his eye's trying to will away the hangover through sheer desire. He said, "When did you get up, sleepyhead?"

"Six. I met some friends down at the bakery on the corner and I went for a run. I was just cleaning up. I see you found the coffee."

Tony hunched over the glass protectively. "Friends?" he asked.

"Just some people I know. I called them the other day to let them know I'd be out and to watch over my place. I promised to meet up with them this morning at the bakery across the street."

"Are you sure you should be out running about when we've got massive amounts of goons trying to murder us?"

"I was careful. I stayed close to the building and crowded areas. I'm fine as you can see." Steve gestured at himself. Unlike Tony, Steve made it out of their scuffles with only a couple minor bruises.

"Anyone I would know?"

"Just some friends, Tony. I don't think you'd know them; we don't move in the same social circles, you know?" Steve grabbed a mug and poured himself a glass. He sat down next to Tony and slid a newspaper over in front of him. Tony frowned at it unsure of what he was supposed to be looking for. Eventually Steve said, "No mention of our friends yesterday."

"I would have been surprised if there was. Those guys knew what they were doing; they probably collected their wounded and hightailed it before the cops got around to that part of town. However," Tony paused and flipped through the newspaper. "There's no mention of that Tommy you called in either. That was pretty high caliber and shouldn't have gone unremarked unless they're trying to keep it quiet while they investigate."

"Which do you think it is?"

"Who knows. I tried to tell you before; I haven't _done_ an investigation like this before. This is all just conjecture. I'm happy to help, but most of the time I've had a gun aimed at my head, they've happily told me who they were as they're doing it. As soon as they get what they want anyways."

"Do you think whoever's been trying to off us has gotten what they want?"

Tony tilted his head, fingers tapping on the edge of his glass. He said, "He doesn't. Why send people to kill us otherwise? The police have better things to look at that a museum heist, but if you're murdered than that'll spike they're interest in this case. So why try to kill you or me unless you're scared of someone finding out something. But we don't know anything worth killing for."

"The sketches?"

"No, the police have pictures of those. So, maybe it's not what we know, but what we're in a position to find out."

"What?"

"You came to me because you thought I could help. Maybe the thief thinks the same. They didn't start after you till after you came to me. You're an easier target, so they figure if they can knock you off before I'm involved then I'll drop the case."

"How does that work? I mean shouldn't they have done something sooner? Why would they wait?"

"I don't know," Tony said in frustration. His fingers tightened on the mug of coffee. "We need to go talk to people. We can start with the person who donated the rings."

"It was from his estate, Tony. I don't think he'll be able to talk."

"I know, but whoever executed his will might be able to tell us something. I'm still waiting to hear back from some of my more exotic contacts."

"Alright then, I can start looking into where to find him."

"No need. Ms. Potts offered to do it for me."

"Offered?"

"I asked nicely. She gets to come along for the ride though so don't do anything you wouldn't mind being published. Keep in mind, there's nothing that I mind being published about me." Tony winked and let his gaze drop down Steve's bare chest.

Instead of blushing and looking away, Steve said, "I can think of a few things that you'd rather be kept quiet." Tony halted his leering to glance quizzically up at Steve. Wrinkles dappled the edge of Steve's eyes as his lips turned in a slight smile.

Tony frowned. "And what would I like kept quite?"

"You'll just have to wait and find out."

"Come on," Tony whined. "If they're things that I want quiet then there's no point in not telling me. I already know since it's my secret, after all."

Steve twisted a finger over his lips as if locking them. They both looked up startled as someone started pounding on the door. Tony got up slowly and slid over a drawer by the fridge and pulled out a pistol. Tony crept on his tips of his toes to the door, ignoring Steve's motions to let him go first. When he peeked into the peephole, he sighed, tucked the gun into the back of his slacks, and flung open the door.

"Pepper! I didn't know you were coming over." Pepper stood outside the door tapping her foot impatiently.

"Rhodey was supposed to tell you I'd be over." She glided inside putting her purse down on a table by the door and followed Tony back to the kitchen. Steve disappeared back to the guest room probably.

"Coffee?" Tony asked.

"Sure."

They turned when Steve reemerged from the bedroom with a shirt this time. Steve asked, "Have you found anything out about Mr. Smith?"

She reached into her purse and revealed a white scrap of paper pinned between two fingers with red painted nails. "Mr. Smith's, formally known as Mr. Liu, old address. He left most of his estate to his granddaughter, and she's been staying in the house while she's in town for the funeral."

Tony yawned. His stomach still felt like an empty pit after this morning's meeting with the toilet, but since the coffee went down well he was feeling ready for an actually food. He glared at the cabinet and considered whether he should grab a bowl of cereal.

"Why are you here so early," Tony moaned and slid down so that his face rested on the table and he could stare at his coffee mug.

Pepper sighed. "Should I come back later?"

"No," Tony said. "Don't leave. Someone needs to make me a bowl of cereal."

Steve stood up. "What kind of cereal do you have?"

"Don't encourage him," Pepper said.

Tony slid his arm across the table so it pointed to the cabinet at the closed cabinet doors. "The one in there one."

Steve opened the cabinet doors. Tony couldn't quite see around him to the shelves. Tony could hear Steve shifting something around as he looked through the cabinet. "Were you able to get in touch with her?"

"I also got the telephone number for their house, yes."

"Are you sure you have cereal?"

"No."

"Can I make you toast instead?"

"You know when you leave, we're going to have to retrain him entirely." Steve froze, a slight jerk interrupting the smooth motion as Steve turned back to the bread drawer. The break was slight, but Pepper noticed and narrowed her eyes at Steve speculatively. "You have just met haven't you?"

"The first I knew about him was at the party last weekend," Tony offered.

"Well," Steve said not turning around, "I've read almost all of the stories in the magazines. I guess we just get along."

"Ah," Pepper said as she tapped her fingers the glass. "If you say so."

"He turned me down. Twice."

She looked Steve up and down. "Straight?"

Tony laughed, "No. At least not entirely. But then again-"

"Tony!" Steve objected.

"When we got back here, he shut me down pretty fast."

Steve's face was flushed red. Before Pepper could say anything, Steve raised his voice and said, "Were you able to talk to Ms. Smith?"

"Very smooth," Tony said. He glanced over at Pepper who regarded him with lifted eyebrows.

"Who?" Pepper asked.

"The granddaughter."

"Oh, I talked with her on the telephone, but she said that she didn't have time this morning." She tilted her head looking at Tony. "Which is why I thought we'd stop by this afternoon. It's a lot harder to say no to a face than a horn."

"Isn't that a little..." Steve trailed off.

"Rude? Steve, people either are dying to talk to a reporter for their moment one moment in the spotlight or they will avoid you like the plague. You don't always get to ask nicely if you want your story. Look, obviously you're going to be a while yet. So, I'll let you peel Tony off the kitchen table and I'll be back around 3 and we can visit Ms. Smith. Does that sound alright?"

"But Pepper-"

"We'll see you then," Steve said. Pepper offered a grateful smile and left.

* * *

The cab pulled up to the Smith's condo and Steve hopped out so that he could hold the door open for Pepper. She daintily stepped onto the sidewalk as Tony slid over and out the cab. When they reached the door, Tony grabbed the iron ring and knocked on the door. Muffled voices could be heard just beyond the door and Tony waited as they drew closer. The door opened to a robust Chinese woman with long dark hair. Her eyes were red with tears behind wire frames. "Hello," she said. "You are..."

"Tony Stark, we called this morning about meeting with Ms. Smith?" Tony said.

"Oh. I thought I said I wouldn't be able to meet with you." She looked Tony up and down.

"This is Steve, my assistant, and my chronicler, Ms. Potts," Tony said gesturing at each in turn.

"Susan," she said and reached out to shake their hands. "Nice to meet you. I'm sorry you came all this way but-"

A tall man appeared behind Susan and Tony noticed the edge of a tattoo creeping up the man's neck. The man put a hand on her shoulder and she leaned away towards the door. "Who are they?" he asked waving a hand at Tony.

"It's Tony Stark. I told you, his assistant-," Susan said as she nodded at Pepper.

"Chronicler," Pepper snapped.

"Called this morning." She glanced up at the man.

After a moment, the man said, "I'm Susan's brother, Choi."

"Nice to meet you," Tony said holding out a hand. Choi's lips turned up slightly and Tony let his hand fall back to his side.

"Listen, Mr. Stark," Choi said. "This isn't a great time. We're still reeling after her grandfather passed away so suddenly. I'm really sorry, but you must understand that we've a lot to take care of."

Choi reached around Susan and wrapped a hand around the door, but before Choi could slam it in their faces, Tony stuck his foot out and blocked the door. Tony let the corners of his mouth turn upward in a slight soft smile and opened his hands outwards. He said, "Just a few question I promise."

The door twitched forwards onto Tony's foot as Choi pushed. Choi started to move around Susan, probably to shove Tony out of the way, when Susan gave a small nod, her head darting down and up in a shallow motion. She stepped back, batted Choi's arm down, and pulled the door open wide revealing the small apartment. Susan said, "Alright. I'm sure I don't know anything, but I can answer your questions."

Choi's eyebrows lowered even further and his frown deepened, but he moved out of the way. Tony couldn't tell if Choi's animosity was from Choi's almost certain criminal background or just a general dislike for prying strangers. As she showed them to the living room, Choi leaned down to mutter something into Susan's ear. Tony caught the slight whisper but he couldn't make out what he said. Susan replied with a quick shake of her head and Choi moved away taking a seat.

They settled onto dust covers in front of a small worn fireplace. "So, I suppose you want to know about my grandfather," Susan said as she clutched at a handkerchief she pulled from her pocket.

Tony shifted uncomfortably and wondered if he was supposed to try to comfort her. He said, "Yes. I'm sorry to have to ask, but-"

"It's okay," she said offering Tony a small smile. "It's just, he was my only family and it's been tough losing him."

"How did he die?" Tony asked.

"Heart attack," Choi said. "He was healthy for his age, but he was old and these things happen."

Susan blew her nose into the handkerchief. "He called me out of the blue. We haven't been close since I was small and it's been years since I talked to him and he called me asking me to meet him. He gave me these rings and then a month later he was dead and now I'm here trying to sell the apartment and the rings are gone."

"He thought the rings were going to be stolen?" Tony asked.

"No," Susan said. "At least, it didn't seem like it at the time. He just said that he wanted the rings to be safe. I mean, they're pretty old. He probably just wanted to make sure that they would be safe after he was gone. I guess he was right to worry since the rings were stolen."

"Your grandfather," Pepper moved over to Susan and took her hand. "He's the one who asked you to donate the rings after he died?"

"Yeah. It's strange, since he went out of his way to give them to me and then-. But it was what he wanted."

"Has anyone asked about the rings?" Tony asked.

"Other than you?" Choi said sharply.

"I was thinking before the rings were stolen."

Susan shook her head. "I don't think anyone knew he gave them to me."

"Did you talk to the police?"

"No, they haven't come by. My grandfather's death was natural. I don't see why they would."

"Do you think I could use your restroom?" Tony asked.

"Sure, it's right down the hall." Susan pointed and Tony excused himself.

When Tony stepped out of the restroom, he stopped to examine the photos on the wall. He picked out Mr. Smith quickly since he was featured in almost every photograph. One photo held Mr. Smith and another man who draped an arm over Mr. Smith's shoulders familiarly. The man wore three rings. Tony grabbed the frame off the wall and was pushed back and his breath hiss out when his ribs throbbed.

Choi said, "What're you doing?"

Tony squeezed the wooden frame and a corner dug into his palm. He stepped away from the wall and back a step putting some distance between them. Choi was probably defanged since Choi allowed Susan to let them into the house, but there wasn't any sense in pressing his luck. "I was just looking at the photos."

Choi folded his arms in front of him and leaned forward. "You need to leave. We don't need your help, if that's what you want to call it."

"What would you call it?"

"I'd say you're sticking your nose where it don't belong. Can't you just let her mourn our grandfather?"

"Her grandfather wanted the rings to be donated to the museum. We're just trying to make sure his will is fulfilled. I don't see why you have a problem with that."

Choi growled and scowled at Tony. "If you don't back off, you'll be sorry."

"I've heard that before."

"What are you going to do when you catch the guy? Call the coppers? You'd be lucky if someone answers who isn't corrupt. It's being taken care of. Just drop it and leave, buddy."

"I'm afraid I can't do that." Tony dodged around Choi and went back out to the living room.

Pepper was talking softly to Susan, but they both looked up when Tony entered. Tony stepped in front of them and held out the folder as he said, "Do you know the man with your grandfather? It looks like he could be wearing the rings, right?"

Susan blinked in surprise at Tony before taking the proffered photo. She tilted her head. "I guess it could be the rings, but I can't tell." She glanced up at Choi who stood scowling before focusing her gaze on the photo. "That's my grandfather, but I don't know the other man. I don't want to rush you out, but we have a meeting with some friends soon."

She handed the photo back to Tony, but Choi stepped forward and snatched the photo from Tony's hand.

"Alright," Tony said. He ignored Choi in favor of asking Susan, "Do you mind if we take the photo?"

"Yes," Choi growled. "We mind."

Tony shrugged. "It might help."

"No." Choi stepped back into the hallway and put the photo back up on the wall.

"Well, it was very nice meeting you. I'm so sorry for your loss, Susan."

"Thank you."

Susan stood up and showed them to the door. Choi loomed in the hallway glaring at them as Tony shook Susan's hand. Her eye's widened slightly in surprise as she felt the small folded business card in Tony's palm. When he let go, she slid her hand into a pocket of her dress hiding the note away.

Not an hour after they arrived, Tony found himself back on the sidewalk outside Mr. Smith's building flanked by Pepper and Steve. Tony lingered once they emerged, and stared up at the windows. Choi stood staring down at them, but when he noticed Tony watching, Choi snapped the drapes closed.

"Do you think he's actually her brother?" Pepper asked when they started towards a nearby cabbie.

Tony rolled his eyes. "I don't know. Either way, I gave her my card. She has the number for the apartment and the lab. It's up to her to call now, not much we can do if she doesn't."

Steve cleared his throat. "So what do we do now?"

"I have a couple of lines out. Now, we wait for a nibble."

* * *

The sound of the horn ringing broke the silence of the night causing Tony to bolt out of bed. His feet tangled in the blankets and he fell off the bed as scrambled to stand up. He kicked the remaining sheets that laid tangled at his feet out of the way and slipped into his robe. He flicked the lights on and blinked the tears that the bright light brought to his eyes.

On the fifth ring, Tony reached grabbed the horn and lifted it off the cradle. "Hello?" he croaked. Clearing his throat he said, "This is Anthony Stark."

"Mr. Stark," Susan whispered. "I don't have long."

"Susan, what-"

"I don't know what my grandfather was involved in, but they want the rings back. I have to go back or Choi will miss me, but I need to warn you. I think my grandfather stole the rings from someone powerful but they aren't-"

The sharp report of a gun firing echoed through the receiver. A woman's scream. There was the clatter of the horn falling from Susan's hands hitting something hard and the squeal of tires as someone put their foot to the gas.

"Mr. Stark?" a voice asked on the line. Susan's killer.

"Who are you?" Tony asked.

A soft laugh, before the voice said, "You should know better than that. I want my rings Mr. Stark. They are mine by right. Do not think that I will stop at poor Miss Liu to keep them safe. Stop looking, Mr. Stark, before anyone else gets hurt."

"You bastard. I am going to find you and I will-"

"Have a good night, Mr. Stark. I hope you'll think on what I said."

Whoever it was ended the call before Tony could say anything else. Tony listened to the dial tone for a full five seconds, breathing heavily like he ran a mile, till he slammed the horn down on the receiver.

When he picked up the horn again, he waited for the operator to answer. She said, "Number, please."

"I need to report a shooting," Tony said the words breaking out from his lungs in a rush. He rattled off the address and hung up.

He flew to his room and stuffed his legs into his pants and cursed his fingers as they slid over the buttons on his shirt. Steve rushed in, the door slamming against the wall as he barreled into it and Tony jumped back, his shirt half buttoned. Steve's eyes swept the room. The .45 revolver that was cradled in Steve's hands followed his gaze.

"What the hell?" Tony said.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. What in the world-" Steve followed Tony's gaze down to the pistol that was cradled in his palms.

"I heard you shouting." Steve looked down at his hands and sheepishly tucked the .45 into the back of his pants with a slight blush tinting his cheeks. "I thought someone might have broken in."

"Well, you're a little late for that," Tony said. He quickly finished buttoning his shirt and went back for his shoes. "Keep the gun and get your shoes. I think Susan was shot."

"The horn-" Steve started to ask before Tony interrupted him.

"Yes. Are you going to keep asking questions or are you going to come?"

"Were you even going to bother getting me before going?" Steve asked. But, apparently Steve didn't expect an answer, because he left to grab his shoes before Tony could say anything. Tony shook his head.

They met in the entrance a few moments later and flew down the stairs not bothering to wait for the elevator. Steve had also grabbed a jacket, which Tony hadn't bothered with, but Tony barely noticed the gun hidden in the shoulder holster.

A police car lights flashed bright as they approached Susan's apartment. Tony's heart rose when he noticed the lack of a body on the ground.

A hand settled on his shoulder and Tony glanced up to Steve. "It's not your fault, Tony."

Choi stood back talking to a detective, but when he spotted Tony his eye's widened and brushed past the detective and rushed Tony. Tony watched him come and wasn't surprised when Choi decked him. Still, the punch sent him flying back into Steve and if Steve hadn't caught him then he would've probably hit the ground hard.

Choi shouted, "You _bastard._ Are you happy? She was shot because of you. I promised her she was safe and then you break in and now she's in the hospital, you fucking bastard."

Two detectives who were on the scene stepped forward and pulled Choi back away from Tony. Tony rubbed his jaw and got his feet back under him.

When the detective turned to him, Tony said, "She called me. I heard the shots."

He was whisked off to the station to give a statement and Steve trailed along. It wasn't till almost 7 that they were released. Between the skyscrapers Tony could just see the pink tinge of light refracting in clouds as the sun rose. When they got back to the apartment, Tony collapsed in his chair by the fireplace and rubbed his eyes.

His glass from last night sat on the table. The water from the remnants of the scotch evaporated leaving the sticky residue on the bottom. He picked up the glass and peered through the tinted glass. Tony raised his hand, glass still clutched within, and almost hurled the glass against the fireplace when Steve's fingers encircled his wrist and stopped him like an iron chain. Steve plucked the glass out of his hand and set it down on the table leaving Tony glaring up at Steve.

"Get some sleep. You've been up half the night and you're not going to do anyone any good if you don't get any rest. There's nothing you can do for Susan right now."

"We should've-"

"Don't go there. Should'ves and could'ves aren't any good. Let's just find the bastard who did this and get the rings back."

* * *

It was about 3 when Tony got the phone call from his contact. He ran into the living room and found Steve sketching on the couch. He leaned next to Steve over the back but before he got more than a glance at the charcoal lines, Steve snapped the notebook shut. Tony said, "Get your shoes on, I got us an appointment."

"With who?" Steve asked as he stood up. The notebook landed on the couch with a light thump.

"Come on," Tony shouted from the entryway where he slipped on a light jacket.

"Well, at least you seem chirpier."

A cab waited outside for them when they exited the building and it was a short ride to a tall office complex. Tony led Steve past the crowds and to an elevator near the back. Mirrors reflected their shadows a thousand fold as they climbed into the elevator. Steve stared up at the ceiling and Tony watched Steve's reflection.

Tony threw open the doors and he grinned when he saw who was at the desk

"Hello!" Tony said entering the room. "Wong! It's been a while."

A small bald Chinese man sat behind a large desk. He looked up from the book he was reading in order to greet them. "Mr. Stark, you're late. As usual. Luckily, I gave you the time I gave you was about 30 minutes early, so you're here just in time. He's inside."

"Is my chronicler here yet?"

"No, Miss Potts has not arrived."

"She'll be here any moment. I'm going to go surprise the good Doctor. Can you send her in when she gets here?"

"Don't tell him we're here," Tony said and motioned for Steve to follow.

Tony walked behind the desk and crept to the door easing it open. Wong sighed rolling his eyes and went back to reading his book. Tony held onto the handle twisting it and sliding the door back into the frame silently. Walking slowly Tony approached the door to the office before he heard a mellow laugh and heard Dr. Strange say, "Tony, come inside. And I see you've brought your client. Or should I say your assistant."

He scowled and opened the door. "How do you do that? There aren't any mirrors in the hallway, I checked. And I didn't even tell Wong about Steve."

"Mr. Stark, for a man who searched for a miracle for over five years you're remarkably cynical." Strange's voice was deep and melodic. He sat behind a wooden desk wearing a white shirt with a red velvet vest over it and more white hair than Tony remembered. When they entered, Strange stood up from behind his desk and came over to shake their hands.

"Doctor Stephen Strange, this is Steve Rogers my temporary assistant before I go to Britain," Tony said as Steve shook Strange's hand. When Strange turned to Tony, he pulled Strange into a hug. "I didn't expect to see you here. I thought you were out of town."

Steve raised an eyebrow at Strange stepped back as Strange straightened his suit smoothing the wrinkles out of his vest. "You don't look like much like a magician."

Strange smiled baring his teeth at Steve. "You don't look like Mr. Stark's previous assistants."

Steve flushed. "I mean, it's just-"

Strange held up a hand cutting Steve off. "No worries, Mr. Rogers. It would be more accurate to say that my associates and I have been able to steer Mr. Stark towards some more exotic artifacts in the past. In return, he has helped us getting some lost objects that we feared were destroyed."

Tony rolled his eyes. "We've done business a few times. Which is why we're here today too, if you'll recall."

Strange turned back to his desk where a large tomb lay open. Strange glanced down at it as he said, "The Rings of Axonn-Karr. As you no doubt found out yourself, there's not much information on them."

"Luckily, this time we're not looking for some heretofore unknown legend. The rings were stolen from Steve's museum."

"It's not actually my museum," Steve said glaring over at Tony. "It's the Museum of-"

"Whatever," Tony said with a wave of his hand. "We aren't really here to learn about the rings. We want to know who has been looking for them. Obviously someone has and I'm hoping the word got through to you."

"How many rings were stolen?"

"Three," Tony.

"Hm, Interesting."

"What do you mean by-" Tony started.

"The Rings of Axonn-Karr are a set of ten rings from ancient China. There are many legends on the qualities they possess, but what I'm more interested in is how Mr. Liu could have gotten them into America. Everything I've found out about them indicates that they are jealously guarded and not something Chinese would just let out of their country."

Strange steepled his fingers as he continued, "I wasn't able to find out much about Mr. Liu or his connection to the rings, unfortunately. However, Tony, I wanted to warn you. You're diving into dangerous territory. These rings are dangerous."

Tony's mouth spread into a wide rueful grin. "You warn me like that every time you send me after something," He said lightly. "Half the time, despite all your warnings, I just find a hunk of rock. You haven't scared me off yet, you're not going to do it this time either."

Instead of laughing like Tony expected, Strange looked at him pensively with eyebrows furrowed downwards. Tony felt a little of his good mood trickling away. Strange knew the dangers of Tony's adventures as much as anyone who was willing to travel with him. In fact, several years ago he, Strange, and Rhodey went together to the Tibetan Mountains in search of the Eye of Agamotto and were nearly killed when they were caught in a blizzard. That was the only adventure Strange joined him on, but still Strange's information was always good. Tony was used to the people around him looking on with a faint sense of apprehension when he went out hunting, but Strange seemed scared about these rings.

Tony glanced around finally noticing the papers and books that lay strewn about every flat surface in the office. Dark rings circled under Strange's eyes indicating some late nights recently. Something about these Rings of Axonn-Karr spooked Strange. "Is there something specific that you're worried about?"

"No," Strange growled. "I haven't found anything that I can warn you against. But what I've found so far makes me believe these are the real deal. There are some very powerful people after these rings. If these are the true Rings then they are very dangerous especially in the hands of the untrained."

Steve laughed nervously causing Tony to startle away from him; he almost forgot that Steve was there. Steve was looking at some of the fiddly odds and ends that Strange kept on the bookshelves. There was a slight clicking where Steve set off a Newton's cradle into motion and the bead bounced against each other. Steve said, "You don't seriously think the rings have magical powers, do you?"

"There are more things on-"

"No. You're not quoting Shakespeare at this," Tony objected. "Steve, I've found plenty of fakes. But if he says it's the real deal, I believe him. It's happened before."

"I don't have any reason to believe these rings are, as you say, the real deal. But I have a bad feeling about this, Tony."

"And unless you can give me something more than your feelings, I'm not going to stop. They've already shot someone-"

"Exactly."

"-and I'm not going to let them scare me off. Can't you just give me something?"

Strange crossed the room and Tony waited in silence. After a sigh, Strange said, "Fine. There's a club on the east side, The Dragon, that's run by a Chinese gang, The Mandarin's. There have been inquires sent out from there to various people in my employ about a lost set of rings. You might start out there."

"I owe you one."

"Just don't make me regret this." Strange stepped forward and pulled Tony into a hug. "You still owe me a scotch. Don't think I won't collect if I have to pry it out of your cold dead fingers."

"Trust me," Tony said dryly. "There's plenty who'll kill me first if I get myself killed because of carelessness. Now, buck up or read me my funeral rites already."

Pepper stood in the reception talking to Wong when they exited Strange trailing behind them. She looked up when the door opened and bared her teeth at Tony. Uh oh. She said, "Tony, I'm so glad decided to let me know where you were headed."

"You seem to have found the place alright," Tony said with a tentative grin.

"Next time, I would appreciate it if you actually let me know where you were going in time for me to join you. I don't know how you expect me to do my job if you keep abandoning me."

"To be fair, the first time was because of your day off."

"How about you make sure I can be around for the rest of this adventure, alright?"

"Then you can join us on our trip to The Dragon."

* * *

The speakeasy was one of few true speakeasies left set underneath a flower shop. The stairs next to the flower shop led down open doors and the faint strains of a lively band could just be heard. The three of them stepped into the bar and the talk which had been booming quieted. Suspicious eyes watched them as they approached the bar.

Tony sat on one of the barstools and Steve and Pepper settled in next to him. Pepper was still grilling Steve on all the details he could remember from the meeting with Strange. The barkeep greasy hair hung heavy around his face and he polished a glass with a dirty rag as he glared at Tony. When he spoke, his voice was gravelly like he spent the last 10 years gargling rotgut, "Think you found the wrong bar, pal."

Tony said, "Pretty sure I'm in the right place. This _is_ The Dragon right?"

"Nah, that's down the road."

"Your sign has says, 'The Dragon,' with a picture of a red dragon on it. This is The Dragon."

"Well, we're outta beer."

"Look, we're not here to cause any trouble. We're looking to talk to someone who lost a set of rings and we were told that that we could find someone like that here."

There was a sudden emptiness of noise that even the quiet chatter of their presence hadn't stopped. Tony glanced around and saw everyone staring at him. The barkeeper didn't move and just slowly kept up the squeak of cloth on glass. A door at the back of the parlor opened and a burly guy stepped out. He barked a short order to the bartender who bowed slightly from his place behind the bar.

"He says that Khan-gōng will see you. I say, watch your tongue while you talk to Khan-gōng, American, so that we will not will not have to clean up your blood."

Tony stood up and headed over to the open door. Steve grabbed his elbow stopping him and said, "Are you sure this is safe? You could be walking straight into a trap."

"If there's one thing I'm good at, Captain, it's setting off traps. You heard the man; all I have to do is watch my tongue and we'll be fine."

Pepper snorted. "If that's all, then we're going to need all the luck we can get."

Inside the back room was dim and smoky. Tony practically choked on the incense. Their guide led them down a rat maze of corridors and Tony was pretty sure that they were getting ever farther away from the speakeasy as they muddled forth. Every fifty feet or so, a brazier sat on the walls oozing smoke out. Lights were strung along the corridors which were obviously a recent addition with wires draping against the walls.

Eventually they reached what seemed to be a dead end, but the guide pressed in a brick in the wall. The wall next to Tony slid to the side in an impressively silent manner. Secret passages weren't exactly uncommon in his line of work, but most of them made a lot of noise when triggered. He whether the wall was on greased rails, but the then there should have been a slight break between the wall and the floor. Before he could get too distracted by the door, their guide stepped through apparently triggering the door to start moving shut. Steve went through last, the door catching the edge of his shirt.

Steve cursed and their guide thankfully paused. The guide waited impatiently as Steve pulled out a pocket knife and cut himself free of his shirt. This area, unlike the hallway, looked all kinds of new. The stone led up to a polished wooden platform where their guide removed his slippers and stared down at them till Tony sighed and bent to remove his shoes as well. Steve and Pepper followed suit.

When they approached a set of large doors their guide bowed away and started back in the direction they came from. Tony pushed open the doors.

Thick carpets blanketed the floor and beautifully cared chairs rested next to a large table. Steve drew in a sharp breath and Tony followed his gaze to the back corner of the room. Choi stood against the wall with a furious expression on his face. His hands were carefully fisted in front of him, but Tony was relatively certain that he could see the white of Choi's knuckles. Still, Choi stood ramrod straight so Tony figured there were orders against harming Khan-gōng's guest.

A young man, Khan Tony guessed, sat sprawled on a practical thrown. The large chair was decorated with jewels and gilded with gold. Khan raised a finger, and Tony couldn't help but notice the large rings that decorated Khan-gōng's fingers. The rings matched the style of the Rings of Axonn-Karr which were stolen. When Khan spoke, his voice was soft and lilting. He said, "You are Tony Stark, yes? Of the Marvel's magazine?"

Tony stepped forward. He caught out of the corner of his eye Pepper reaching into her pocket and pulling out a notepad and pen. Taking off his fedora, he spun it over his heart and bowed, "At your service. I heard you've been-"

Khan slammed his feet to the ground his fist slamming against the arm of the chair. "Enough! It is you and those like you who have plundered my home land. Looters and thieves." Khan practically spat the words out. The drowsy expression on his face was gone and in its place was pure fury. "You trespass into sacred land and rip out anything that catches your eye. These rings belong to me by right and I will not let some filthy Americans stand in my way."

"Now, wait just a minute," Steve said reaching under his coat towards his gun. The sound of several guns being cocked caused Steve to freeze. Pulling his hand out of his jacket, Steve held his hands up. "We came here to help. You invited us in and all we want to do is help get these rings back."

"Oh yes," Khan said. "I'm sure you do. And as soon as you have them, you'll hand them over to your American officers and I shall see nary a trace. Spare me your lies."

"Then why did you invite us in?" Tony asked.

"I warned Liu-gūniang that speaking to anyone on this matter would cost her. It is-"

"Who?" Tony asked blinking in bewilderment.

Khan glanced over to where Choi lurked. Choi growled, "Susan. You got Susan shot, you bastard. If she-"

A raised hand silenced Choi before he could say anything else. "Ah right, that is her American name. I warned her that she shouldn't speak to anyone or there'd be consequences. It's a shame that she didn't listen, but I hear that she's recovering well. I am giving you the same courtesy. Leave off this search and we never need to speak again. Keep looking and you might find yourself in a tough spot."

"Why warn us at all? Why not just shoot us while you have us in your nice little hidey hole?" Tony asked. Pepper hissed at him in annoyance, but he ignored the glare. If Khan wanted to kill them, he would have already done it.

"While I certainly might be doing the world a favor if I did so, but I'm afraid it isn't worthwhile unless you force my hand."

"Then you certainly wouldn't mind showing us the way out."

"I am not holding you here and I did not invite you here. _You_ are the one who came to _me_. Liu-xiānshēng, my guests wish to leave. Show them the way out."

"That's alright," Tony started but was cut off.

"I insist. Show them out."

Choi thrusts himself off of the wall and stormed passed Tony brushing his shoulders with enough force to send him stumbling back a step. Tony saw now, the men who lined the wall behind them. For the moment, their guns were tucked away but they watched Steve with intent eyes.

Knowing that they got more out of Khan then Tony was even expecting, Tony followed Choi without another word. Strange's worry seemed misplaced after all. Tony wished he could send the police down here, but without more than a few vague threats there was nothing to do about Khan for now. Especially since Choi seemed to be working for Khan.

They left through a different route than they entered, emerging out into an empty alleyway behind a dumpster. Choi quickly slammed the door behind them and Tony could hear the sound of a bar falling down on braces blocking the door. Steve said, "Well, that was interesting. Do you get threats like that very often?"

"No, this was a first," Tony said as he glanced down either end of the alley trying to figure out where they were. This wasn't a part of town he was familiar with, but since one end of the alleyway was blocked he figured the street would at least lead to cabbies who could take them home. "I don't know about you two, but I could really go for a burger."

Tony led the way to the street. He stopped in surprise when a cab turned half into the alleyway and squealed to a stop blocking their exit. Steve pushed his way in front of Tony and Pepper and a dozen men poured into the alleyway. With his gun already out, Steve flicked the safety off and took aim. Tony lost sight of Steve and he turned around and urged Pepper to run beside him. As they ran she said, "This way is blocked. Unless you think we can scale the wall."

"We aren't, but I think I can help you get over," Tony said. He spared a glance over his shoulder. One of the people who stormed in was lying on the ground, but they rushed Steve too quickly for him to get off more than one shot. Steve was grappling with three of them and holding his own pretty well, but four other thugs slipped past him and were sprinting towards Tony and Pepper.

Tony got onto a knee and cupped his hands. Pepper, thankfully, had foregone her usual heels and was wearing a low set of flats. She stepped into his hand and he stood up so she could reach the edge of the roof. Scrambling up, she pulled herself onto the roof and dropped to the other side where she shouted, "I'm going to call the cops! Just hold on for a few minutes!"

Unfortunately, that looked to be harder than it sounded. Before Tony could even catch a glimpse of where Steve was, the four thugs who slipped past Steve reached him. One landed a punch on his kidneys which brought tears of pain to his eyes. He wheeled around with an elbow catching one thug in the nose and moving back to avoid the swinging uppercut of another, but the first thug reached an arm around his throat and pulled him into a chokehold before Tony could get his chin down. There were too many of them and he didn't have enough space to get out of the way.

He felt his vision going dark and his lungs burning as he collapsed into unconsciousness. He hoped that Steve made it out alright.

* * *

Tony sat up with a gasp and immediately regretted it. His throat ached and he blinked about in bewilderment when he couldn't see anything. When he moved his hands to reach for his eyes, he found them cuffed behind his back and groaned. The darkness reminded him of when he took the sub deep into the ocean and the light from the sun didn't reach very well. He worried for a moment that there was something wrong with his eyes, but as they adjusted he could to make out the edges of the room. Light oozed through the cracks in the wooden door of his cell.

He reached for his shoes and felt around there finding nothing. Whoever grabbed him found the lock picks that he hid there and took them out. A small pail sat next to him and Tony thought he could see the reflection where water would be. Tony groaned, but he got one knee up and pushed himself into a standing position where he swayed waiting for the room to stop spinning.

When his balance returned to him, he moved over to the pail. He leaned over and saw the clear liquid that crested the edges of the pail and splashed onto his skin. Leaning over he carefully tasted. Water. The position was awkward as hell, but Tony's mouth felt like sandpaper and he eagerly drank snorting when some of the water got into his nose.

It could be drugged, of course, but at least that meant they - whoever they were - weren't planning on killing him quite so immediately. Anyways, if they planned on drugging him, there wasn't much Tony could do about it. He needed water and just had to trust that this wouldn't kill him. On the other hand, if they provided water, providing water could mean that they weren't planning on coming back anytime soon.

Tony sat back on his heels and contemplated the rest of the room. It was empty except for a toilet, thank God, and a chair bolted to the floor with an alarming number of straps. He inched away from it to the corner and sat on his heels contemplating what to do next. Pepper would have gotten the police and probably bullied them into making a raid on Khan's bar too. Tony felt sure, though, that whoever grabbed him was only tangentially involved with Khan since Khan would've had a much easier time grabbing all three of them while they were still inside Khan's secret maze.

Khan probably sold him out to whoever these people were, though. The location and the timing were just too convenient to be coincidence. Khan wanted the rings, that much was obvious. What if these were the people who stole the rings and they auctioned them to Khan for Tony? It seemed likely enough, though probably was that he was just icing on the cake to whatever deal Khan made.

Otherwise, they could've been after Steve. But a retired Army Captain turned museum personnel didn't seem the type to make many enemies. Tony hoped that if they weren't after Steve in particular, then Steve made it out alright. Tony couldn't remember much from the fight since he was ambushed pretty quickly, but there were more people there than Steve would've been able to deal with.

He started looking on the ground for a scrap of wire or a pin, anything that could serve as a makeshift lock pick, when he heard a key turning in a rusty lock. He scrambled back away from the door and stood in the corner. If he could rush the person coming in-

Four men walked in and Tony sagged. One person he could rush and maybe knock out with his hands tied behind his back. If he was lucky. Four was impossible, at least for him. Tony was a decent scrapper, but he knew his limits. Whoever wanted him, wasn't taking any chances. One of the men went behind him and Tony's heart thudded in excitement as the man took off the cuffs. But before he had the chance to even move, the four men pushed him into the chair and strapped him into it tightly so he could barely move.

Another man walked in with a mouth guard, which they forced into Tony's mouth by simply holding his nose shut until he was forced to take a gasping breath. The latest man also carried a small generator with several wires. Tony wasn't sure what the man planned to do with this, but he had a bad feeling he was about to find out.

* * *

"Stark, it's so nice to see you again," a voice said with a faint German accent.

Tony lifted his head wearily. A small white man with a thick black mustache stood in the doorway wearing a thick pair of glasses that distorted his eyes like fisheye lenses.

Tony closed his eyes and leaned his head back and kept his breathing even despite the pain in his chest. This was the first time someone had addressed him since he arrived. His tortures hadn't asked him any questions while they applied shocks that sent him into convulsions even though he would have begged near the end for them to stop. Electrical burns ran up and down his legs where the wires they pressed the wires down.

He was afraid what these shocks were doing to his heart and the mess of metal that was there. He couldn't bear thinking about the burns that were certainly underneath the metal plating on his chest. In the past, when his battery needed charged up, Tony would be half electrocuted but that was nothing like this.

Tony licked his lips, which felt thick and unwieldy, and croaked out, "Who... I'm afraid you have the advantage of me then."

"Ah, yes. Well, I'm not surprised you don't remember me." There was the faint scrap of movement as the man moved inside. Tony's eyes flew open when he heard more people pouring into his cell. He watched them, but none of the newcomers even gave him a second glance. Instead, they set up a small table and placed a velvet cover on it. Then gently set a single ring down on the center of the table. One of the stolen rings.

The man noticed Tony's straying attention and said, "The other two were fakes, I'm afraid. We gave them to the gangster for his help smuggling some of our more... dangerous contraband into the country. But this. Ah, this ring was special."

Gently picking up the ring, the man held it to the light coming in through the hallway. "This ring actually works. It makes one wonder if I should just go back and slice the little gangster's throat and get the rest of the rings." The man slipped the ring onto one finger and admired it.

Tony watched, trapped, as the man walked over and laid a single finger on Tony's shoulder. His teeth slammed down as he rode out another convolution. When he stopped shaking, he noticed the tears dripping down his face and the sweat that made his shirt stick to his skin. Everything hurt with a deep bone ache from his face to his toes. The man stood in front of him, face right in front of Tony's, looking inquisitive.

The man said, "Fascinating isn't it? Energy created from nothing. All that electricity - Boom! We've tried it out several times and it's amazing how much power this can generate. That was just a small shock, but this ring can generate lightning bolts or currents that melt the plastic right off the wires."

The man paused looking down at Tony as if waiting for a comment. Tony remained silent, unable to think up a reply.

"I was really quite peeved with you, you know. I put a lot of work into your father and a lot of resources were invested in the suits that you destroyed. Luckily, we have you now. Once we're done having our fun, you can take your father's place as Baron Zemo."

Hydra was in New York. Tony's eyes widened and he looked up in true fear. Khan must be smuggling in weapons of some sort for them. He needed to warn someone, anyone. He needed to get to his suit in Stark Labs. He needed- He moaned and struggled against the straps holding him down. He pulled against them heedless of the way the straps cut into his wrists and ankles.

The man tsked and pulled Tony's head back and peeled back one of Tony's eye lids. He left through the door for a moment but returned with a syringe. "I really didn't want to drug you just yet, but I'm not ready to be finished with my fun. So this will just quiet you down for a few hours and then we can start up again. Now, stop thrashing or this will hurt a lot more than it has too."

Tony froze as the needle entered his arm, and in no time he was back in oblivion.

* * *

Tony woke up once again on the floor of his cell. This time without handcuffs, thankfully. As he stood, every movement cost him as his muscles protested their use. Pushing past the pain, he tried to clear his head. He inched over to the pail and splashed his face with the icy water. Shaking his head, Tony thought out what he needed to do. Stop Hydra. Get the ring away from the crazy guy. Find and destroy Hydra's weapon cache. If he could link Khan to Hydra, the entire better but Nazi's operating in the US took a much higher priority than a street gang.

He couldn't tell how much time passed after the man drugged him. His stomach indicated that at least several hours passed while he was out, as his ravenous hunger mixed with the nausea the pain was causing. Tony walked over to the door and started feeling around next to it, looking for the light switch that his captors used to get the lights on in his cell. Unfortunately, it seemed the switch was on the other side his cell.

Luckily, the ceiling was low enough that if he was on the chair he could reach the lights that were just above it. He unscrewed the bulb and took it out. He reached around the socket until he found where the bulb screwed in. Hands shaking, Tony pulled on the metal and prayed. The old plaster gave way and Tony was sprinkled with dust and plaster. Once he pulled enough out so that the wires dangled down to about his chest he carefully climbed off of the chair and continued ripping the wires out.

He froze as he heard men shouting outside the door and the rushing of feet. No one even paused by his door though, so he continued keeping an ear out for any sound. When he was done, he had about 40ft of wire. He peaked under the door where a sliver of light could be seen, but he couldn't make out if anyone was standing outside. Tony took a deep breath trying to center himself. He had been in tighter scrapes than this and if he could just make it out of wherever they were keeping him, he should be fine.

If he had anything sharp enough to cut through the wires, he would have hooked them up to the shard in his chest and then he would have the electrical power to shock anyone. Although, more likely he would kill whoever he shocked. Unlike the generator or apparently the ring, without rigging up something to control the current the shard would pour everything it had down the wires melting the plastic in his hands. On the other hand, even if the light was turned on then he would be tethered to this room. .

He put the wires next to the chair and sat down next to it. Bracing his feet against the legs of the chair, Tony grabbed one of the straps on the arm and pulled. Whatever madman, put this chair together, took an existing chair and stapled the leather straps onto the chair. The staples were heavy duty, but since he could get leverage on them now he could just about feel them give. Tony fell back when the strap was ripped loose from the chair, but he avoided slamming his head onto the floor.

The metal was stiff, but with the aid of his shoe he was able to create a rough lock pick. He found the doorknob and jimmied the lock open with a little effort. When he opened the door, the hallway was deserted. Grabbing the wires, he brought them over to the door and started painstakingly wrapping the wires around the handle. He shut the door behind him and flicked the light switch on.

He moved down the hallway cautiously keeping an ear out for anyone who might be approaching. He could hear the distant sound of shouting and the report of gunfire. Right now, if anyone found him, he didn't stand a chance. He moved away from the area he thought he could hear the gunfire coming from. When he neared the end of the hallway, he could hear someone throwing papers around in an office. Slinking along the wall, Tony peered inside barely tilting his head past the door frame so that he could see.

Inside was the man who wore the ring.

Or rather, the man who had worn the ring. The ring sat halfway between Tony and the man on a table covered in papers. The man's back was turned to Tony and he was rustling in a file cabinet pulling out paper after paper looking for something.

The smart thing would be to run. Get out of the building and then send reinforcements back for the ring. Escaping was a stroke of luck, it would be entirely reckless if he dove back in and got himself caught once more. Rhodey always did warn him against his reckless streak. It would be a shame to disappoint Rhodey now.

Tony dove into the room not bothering to sneak. By the time he was at the table, the man was facing him with eyes wide with shock. Tony slipped the ring on and held up a hand before the man could make a single move towards Tony.

The man stopped and his eye's tracked the ring that rested on Tony's fingers. He raised his hands up above his head as he asked, "How did you get out?"

"Have you even read a single Marvel issue? I'm sure they covered that I could pick locks somewhere in there."

"Your friends. How did they find us?"

"I honestly have no idea. No, don't move." The man stopped his inching towards the cabinet and started to lower his hands. "What's your name?" Tony asked.

"My name doesn't matter. I am one of many. You can kill me, but that won't stop the Reich." The man reached down towards the cabinet and lightning arched of the ring on Tony's hand. The smell of cooked meat and the sizzling of flesh made Tony gag and stumble over to the corner where his stomach tried to vomit up everything he ate in the past week. A weak watery slime was all that came out of his empty stomach, but it didn't stop his stomach from trying.

Tony pulled off the ring and stuffed it into his pocket. Untrained hands. Tony had no idea what caused the ring to go off, but he wasn't going to wear it if he might accidentally set it off. The ring was like holding a loaded gun with no idea what might trigger it or any idea how to aim it.

Tony went to the door and was about to start down the hallway when he heard shouts. Freezing, he slid back behind the door and hoped whoever it was wouldn't stop to examine the room too closely. The body was off to the side so it wouldn't be immediately visible from the door, but the stench was awful. Soon though, he heard the voices with American accents.

He peeked out into the hallway and saw uniformed men marching towards him with guns. Tony shouted out, "If you're here to rescue me you're too late. If you're here to beat the shit out of some Nazi's, can you point me in the direction of the exit?"

"Stark?" someone asked. "Tony Stark? Captain Roger's told us you'd be here. Come out and let us see you. No weapons if you don't mind."

Tony stuck his hands out the doorway to show that they were empty and stepped out into the hall. Never had he been so happy to see guys with guns. Steve wasn't around, but Steve sent the reinforcements that Tony desperately needed. Glancing behind him, Tony said, "There's a body in there. I don't know who he was, but I think he was in charge of this horror show. He was looking through a bunch of documents when I found him. I don't know what's all in there, but there was something the lead man though was important enough to search for even with you men coming in."

"Thank you. I'll make sure we take a look at the documents."

"Do you know where we are?"

"Over by the dock. Captain Rogers is rousting the last of these Nazi bastards out, but he'll be able to meet you out there soon enough. He'll be glad enough that you're not dead."

"It was a near thing, let me tell you. But I think we have another story for my dear chronicler to write."

The leader of the small party gave instructions to one of his men to take Tony outside and find one of the medics that they brought with him. Before leaving, Tony warned the officer about his little trap. Tony followed the Army man thankfully and didn't even object when the medic passed him a couple pills to relieve the pain. The medic hissed when she saw the burn marks left by the wires. She pulled out some gauze bandages and started wrapping them around Tony's arms when Steve arrived.

Steve was wearing his army uniform that was deep green and had a small collection of medals and a deep scowl. He had a black eye, but it didn't seem to be bothering him much. His scowl brightened when he saw Tony and Steve rushed over. Steve said, "I heard you made it out all on your own! I came as soon as I could."

With his free arm that wasn't being wrapped in bandages, Tony reached across himself and patted his pants pocket. "I found your missing ring. Who are you, not quite as retired as I was lead to believe Captain Rogers?"

"It wasn't my idea."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "What wasn't?"

"Colonel Fury notified me of a threat to you. I've been doing undercover work over in Europe, but he pulled me back to the States. We had no idea the connection between the rings and Hydra. We thought it would just put me in a good place to watch out for you. I was going to tell you after we left the bar, but then the Hydra agents came and you were gone."

"Was everything a lie? Why did you kiss me? Did it help you keep me under control? Did you think-" Tony could feel his voice getting louder and louder as Steve shrank before him. He wanted to scream.

Steve cut him off before he could go on. "NO! Of course not! Those were unexpected. Tony, you don't understand, I wanted to- I didn't expect what happened between us, but that's why I had to stop it before it got out of control. I couldn't tell you who I was and I wasn't going to sleep with you when those lies were there."

Tony breathed a deep breath trying to steady his breathing. He asked, "Did you know about this base? How'd you even find me?"

Steve looked momentarily baffled by the change of subject but he said, "That'd be the experimental tracer I put in your shoe."

"That small?" Tony asked in spite of himself. "I've heard the military was developing those in one of their other contracts but-"

"It's what I needed to get from my apartment that first day. I wasn't expecting to find you quite so soon, you understand."

"Were the people chasing you after the ring at all? Or was that also part of the plan to make me trust you?"

"No! They were Hydra agents. You happened to catch me right after I made a raid on what they thought was a secret location. I wasn't lying to you because I _enjoyed_ it. It was because..."

Tony sighed as Steve earnestly tried to explain why no one decided to tell him his life was in danger. The anger that was building drained away in the wake of exhaustion and Tony tried not to feel like a fool. He understood that it was ostensibly done to protect him, but hadn't anyone considered telling him. It wasn't like he was unused to being put in danger; he usually dove into danger face first.

Before he could change his mind, Tony held out his hand. "My name is Tony Stark. Adventurer extraordinaire. And you are?"

Steve stared at him in bafflement before taking Tony's hand with a wide grin and said, "Captain Steve Rogers. Army. Active duty."

"This is your only second chance," Tony warned. "I'm not doing this again."

Steve nodded solemnly. "I understand. In our newfound honest, I feel obliged to warn you. Your writer is here and she practically tore down the walls when I wouldn't let her participate in the raid. She took your friend Rhodey to another warehouse where she to one of Hydra's weapons cache. He was wearing your Iron Man suit, but she said to warn you that she was going to get you back for abandoning her once again."

Tony laughed hoarsely. "What'd you say we go back to Europe and kick some more Nazi ass?"

Steve sat down next to Tony and grinned. "Only if you promise that you'll bring Miss Potts along. I think she'd shoot me if I took you to war without her."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Who are you, Steve Rogers?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/823790) by [whippy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whippy/pseuds/whippy)




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